


lighthouse (a reminder of where you’re going)

by jeongsa



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Slow Burn, island holiday au, jeongyeon wears her charming overalls, sana needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23644849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeongsa/pseuds/jeongsa
Summary: pop-star minatozaki sana runs from her celebrity life to the tiny getaway of ulleungdo. adventure is found in a bed and breakfast inn, run by the island tour-guide extraordinaire yoo jeongyeon.
Relationships: Minatozaki Sana/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 35
Kudos: 205





	1. one

The streets are loud when Sana makes her way home. There’s always a roar on a Friday night in the club strip, where a string of various establishments have their competitive promotions to rake in the patrons. The strategically placed neon lights are attractive to the foreign tourists. For the long weekend, The Rogue waived their $20 fee until 12 instead of 9, so naturally, customers flocked. For this reason, the line was too long when Sana arrived at 11, incognito. She wasn’t interested after the first half hour with the balls of her feet on hot fire from the weight of gravity.

None of her casual friends wanted to leave with her in drunken protest, so she’s stuck wobbling her way to Jihyo’s on her own. It’s a good thing that she knows how to navigate herself, somewhat - she stays out of the streetlights, sticking to the side of the pathway with strands of hair swept in her face stuck on the sheen of her sticky lipgloss. She won’t stand out so long as she slips on the shirt she's kept close to her side, a thick long-sleeve with buttons down the middle.

The song blaring from the nearest club drowns out with passing cars that capture Sana’s attention, pavement becoming darker as she distances herself further from the glittery nightlife. They’re so blurry, driving past her small body so fast - she can’t keep up with them while she’s walking so slow. She strains her ears to hear the faint tune as the night’s finale before she turns at a right corner.

It’s a long journey in cork wedges, but Sana’s managed it a couple of times when her phone’s been dead and she can’t contact an uber - it’s on 5% which is enough to press touch ID and order the damn thing, but she needs to tell Jihyo something important, she remembers, even if it’s fuzzy. Something Jihyo wanted to know.

She can’t think of what it is at the moment, but she thinks it must be important, because she wouldn’t be walking in the city chill in the dead of night if it wasn’t.

Jamming her hand into her bag (already open thanks to the faulty clasp), Sana reaches for her phone, slippery in her hands without its case enclosed around the glass. It’s a fragile device, seemingly confusing to configure when pissed, also, enough so that Sana manages to fail in pressing the correct contact number.

“ _Hello_?”

“Jihyo,” Sana says, the words slightly slurring as they leave her mouth. “Jihyo, don’t be mad. I’m coming over. ‘Kay?”

_“Uh, hello_?” The female voice on the end of the line repeats herself, sounding entirely more confused than the first greeting. “ _Who is this_?”

Sana, still teetering along the pavement puts her free hand to block her other ear from sound. “I’m on my way, right now. Few more blocks.”

“‘ _Err_ ,” The voice says. “ _I'm sorry, but this isn’t Jihyo_.”

The voice does register a little foreign to Sana - even when drunk, Sana can recognise that Jihyo stresses on her vowels a little more than whoever’s on the receiving end of the tragic phone call. The prospect of continuing to make a fool of herself is compelling enough to pause in her stroll.

“Wait,” The clicking of Sana’s heels halt, and there’s silence on the other end. “Then who is this?”

“ _I asked you first_ ,” The woman retorts.

“I’m Sana,” Sana replies, and God, fuck, she was not meant to reveal that. Jihyo will have her head. “I - wh- who-“

“ _Holy… shit_ ,” The woman is incredulous, for some reason high above and beyond Sana’s current comprehension skills. She swears loudly enough for it to hurt her ears a little, and she winces in pulling the phone away. “ _Sana... It’s Nayeon_.”

“ _Nayeon_?” Sana almost yells, and Nayeon shushes her frantically on the other end of the line. “Like, Ex-Girlfriend Nayeon?”

“ _Yes, Jesus christ_ ,” Nayeon grunts. “ _How did you even remember my number?_ ”

“I-I didn’t,” Sana continues on her wobbly walk, making a pass by a pole situated at another corner of a road and wrapping her hands around it to regain a semblance of balance. “Pressed a button. Listen. Listen. How did you get my number. It’s been years, Nayeon.”

“ _Sana, you called me_ ,” Nayeon sighs in resignation. She sounds groggy, like she’d been woken up from sleeping prior to the call. “ _Maybe it was still synced on your sim card, or something. Look, the reunion can come later. Where are you?”_

“I’m walking to Jihyo’s!”

“ _Walking... at this time of night. Alone._ ”

“Yeah,” Sana smiles a stupid grin at the thought of her best friends’ apartment - so warm even in the dead of winter, with her magical air conditioning system. It’s the beginning of the end of summer, and she feels it in the wind picking up from behind - her dress flies up walking against it, and she has to occupy her fingers by pulling the hem down. “I do it sometimes.”

Nayeon isn’t impressed. “ _Give me her address._ ”

Sana lists it off the top of her head after thinking hard into the receiver, and it’s when Nayeon says she’s going to punch it into her Maps application that Sana giggles. She’d be beyond useless in the apocalypse if there were ever to be one in the near future, because she’d just invite the zombies over for high tea.

_“Now, go to iMessage and share your location.”_

“But how do I do that?” Sana almost whines. She was barely capable of opening her lockscreen moments ago. “Hey… hey, Nayeon? My phone is about to die.”

“ _Give me the street name, okay? I’m asking because I’m coming to get you.”_

“What? You don’t have to do that,” Sana protests. “No, _no_. I’m going to Jihyo’s.”

“ _You’re going to stay put,”_ Nayeon decides. “ _Can you see a station entrance?”_

Sana takes a step to her right, nearing the end of the next street and peers over, not without almost tumbling on her wedges in the process. “Third.”

“ _Itaewon, right?_ ”

“The very centre,” Sana’s feet feel a little wobbly putting the phone on speaker, distracted from paying attention to where she's walking.

“ _I live close, good. I’m in the elevator now._ ”

There’s the metallic ding from the bell signalling a stop at a floor, and a muffled voice Sana can just make out. Nayeon speaks to them, says something quietly before she returns to Sana’s waning attention span. “ _Are you okay to stand somewhere and wait? I’ll only take a few minutes once I’m in the carpark_.”

“Who’s with you?”

Sana sounds a little more accusatory than curious. She’s been set up before, you know how it goes - one friend brings another, they want to meet her, want to see her in the flesh.

She doesn’t know why they would bother - everyone knows celebrities are much less glamorous up close.

“ _Nosy_ ,” Nayeon observes with disinterest, not answering the question. “ _I think we know where you are, now. Can you stand outside of the apartment block?_ ”

“We?”

Nayeon sighs at her slip-up. “ _A girl is with me. Problem?”_

“It’s fine,” Sana hiccups, not pressing any further. It’s an entire dimension she’d rather not delve into when drunk, the guilt of interrupting what was a possible hook-up hurting her head in more ways than one. She thinks she might’ve possibly twisted an ankle on the curb, too, aching after trudging to stand where she’s been told. “On 3%.”

“ _Alright, alright, I’m hanging up. Stay there,_ ” Nayeon hesitates. “ _Do not move. See you in a minute.”_

“Bye!”

Sana slides herself down the smooth brick wall, gingerly cradling her ankle, thankful no one's manning the door to tell her to shoo from the property. Going out tonight was one of Sana's less bright ideas, even more so now that she's gotten herself into a situation where she's contacting Nayeon again.

Sana really regrets not trying to order that Uber.

-

"On the couch. Nayeon, _really_?"

Sana's head aches as she stirs, the dehydration of drinking the night before settling in. The golden rule to remove makeup before slumber was ignored for the promising sleep on Nayeon's futon. The sticky residue of waterproof mascara lifts from the linen cushion she's pushed against, sending her vision slightly foggy.

"Shut up, she'll hear you," Nayeon's whisper-yell comes from what sounds like the kitchen, bouncing from the tiles. "She just fell asleep like that! What was I supposed to do?"

Sana's laid, deadly still, unmoving to pretend she's still asleep, too busy dreading her own existence with the weight of last night's events crashing down. Nayeon picked her up last night, stone drunk, stumbling to Jihyo's flat. Nayeon. As in, ex-girlfriend Nayeon, the Nayeon who swore she'd never speak to Sana again. _Great_.

_Jihyo_. Shit. She needs to find her phone. Carefully, from where her hands are lying underneath her sides, she lifts her body slightly upwards, feeling underneath her skirt for any sign of the mobile hand device, the scratchy rug stiff against her fingers. She halts at the sound of moving steps, squeezing her eyes shut to pretend to be more comatose.

"I'm just - confused, here. I thought you really liked Momo. Isn’t it a bit bitchy to make this one sleep on the couch?"

"I do, but we aren't together," Nayeon scoffs, lighthearted. "And why do you suddenly care who I bring home?"

Was Nayeon really pretending she was the hook-up? The entire situation is beyond bizarre. Sana opens a single eye, measuredly less painful this time, surveying the small living area of the flat she's been placed in. She's faced with the television, the coffee table, away from either of them, so it's safe to peek. She notices that the door is right there, too. Sana itches to make a run for it.

"You know I don't," They chew on a mouthful of what smells and sounds like overcooked toast. "But Momo is good for you."

"I'm a big girl, you know," Nayeon seems amused, but it's a warning if anything. "Don't meddle."

"You wrote the book on it," The voice snickers, nearing to where Sana was situated - she manages to lower her heartbeat to match her stillness, hoping her face is downturned into the cushion far enough that this mysterious figure won't notice her. She sounds nothing like the girl Nayeon brought with her last night - roommate, maybe? The doorknob rattles. "Make up for it by offering her some cereal before she leaves, or something. The last of the milk expires tomorrow!"

"Have a good day at work," Nayeon calls.

"Always!"

Sana opens her eyes once it's deemed safe, catching the fleeting appearance of white socks and a green shirt as they leave the apartment.

"She's gone," Nayeon speaks to Sana firmly from the kitchen, once the door's closed. "Your phone's charging on the bench. Jihyo called and I gave her this address, so she'll be here in a minute. You don't just have a driver you can summon, or something?"

From what her memories piece as a mosaic, Nayeon's car is still warm as ever, smelling a little like the dust coming out of the air conditioner and weathered leather seats. Sana was situated in the back, where Nayeon made sure to buckle the belt for her, skipping introductions with the woman in the front seat who was very obviously avoiding her eye contact. She was guessing for this person to be Momo.

"I don't have a driver," Sana replies. She’s lethargic as she begins to sit up - the waves of hangover crash against the insides of her skull, and she swears she sees a little green, if not at least tastes it. "I don’t."

"Mmm, no, you definitely do," Nayeon closes a cupboard. "Saw it in Who magazine once, so it must be real."

"Right.”

Sana's head hurts too much to argue that, actually Nayeon, it's not the same person each time whenever they're on duty (therefore not a singular personal driver for this reason), and she lets out a controlled breath through her nose.

Not long now, and she can be out of here, only to face an entirely different hell on its own - Jihyo, when she's pissed off.

"Water?" Nayeon prompts, amused by her struggle. "Wipes?"

"Wipes," Sana groans, remembering the remains of her mascara on Nayeon's throw pillow, bequeathing her head into her hands in shame. "Please. Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

The packet plonks itself next to Sana's hip, Nayeon must've already had it handy - alongside a packet of Advil, throwing it from over the counter to where she's sitting.

Sana dares to face her. She's in her pyjamas, dorky unicorn ones, hair a mess but cared for enough to be half-up. Nayeon's more filled into her frame than she was a few years ago, now that Sana can view her when she's sober. When they were together, Sana recalls Nayeon being so focused on watching her weight. It's clear she's moved on from that now - she seems happy, comfortable here in the city with her flatmate. Content with less pressure in having an image to uphold - being far away from Sana.

The image of Nayeon settling down stares her plainly in the face - she's likely studying something for a job she'll end up loving, living the dream she'd always imagined she would. It's something Sana's never once considered, because she'd pushed Nayeon to the back of her mind since the moment they broke it off, and now she’s woken up lying facedown on her couch.

Guilt weighs itself in Sana's throat. She's just glad Jihyo's well on her way before she has the chance to ruin anything else.

"I didn't... nearly look this bad last night," Sana warily says, unsure even of her own statement. "Right?"

"Not even close," Nayeon shakes her head. "Looked great, really. I do have to say, though, I almost didn't recognise you underneath all of that. I nearly drove right past you."

Sana diverts back to the makeup remover as Nayeon snorts at her own words, unravelling a few pieces of the paper and getting to work, the remains of her blusher and shimmery eyeshadow beginning to crumble in the liquid. Nayeon's rounding the lounge, soon coming into Sana's vision in her towering stance before the end table. She wordlessly leans down to place a glass of water on a coaster.

"Chaeyoung insisted," Sana gestures to her misshaped eyeliner with an awkward laugh, cutting the silent tension that's grown as the two don't speak, Nayeon loudly sipping on her mug of instant coffee. "Uh, western-inspired. She manages most of my makeup now."

"That's nice, I'm happy for her," Nayeon seems to mean it, the smile still in her voice in recalling the younger girl. "She graduated yet?"

"Not so long ago," Sana replies. Small talk is a slow death - she’d like to get to the bottom of things, if the circumstances weren’t already odd.

(Like, firstly, when did Nayeon unblock her, and why?)

“She's a good kid."

"Always has been," Nayeon fondly clasps the mug closer to her chest. "Tell her I miss her, won't you?"

Sana's a little taken aback at the request, but she nods blindly, unsure of whether she'll actually mention anything to her. Chaeyoung hasn't spoken to Nayeon in years, either. She supposes that’s her own fault. "I'll let her know."

"I appreciate it."

-

Jihyo slams Sana’s entrance door to her Lexus, locking her best friend inside like a five-year-old after misbehaving publically in a supermarket. It's within the same essence, but in this scenario, Sana is twenty-one.

"You could've been _caught_ ," Jihyo snaps the obvious, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Sana's wearing a pair of oversized sunglasses Jihyo discarded to her in the back, cowering behind the driver's seat and avoiding eye contact in the rear view mirror. "Someone could've seen you, you know that? What the hell were you thinking?"

"I just wanted to go out," Sana watches the buildings pass out of the window. "Clear my head."

"You're getting careless. Clear your head in the confines of your own home next time. Call Chaeyoung, call me, call someone."

"I _tried_ calling you," Sana half-whines, letting out a huff of air with her toes curling against the back of the seat. "And, well, you can see how that turned out."

"Why are you hanging out with those girls anyway?"

“They were available, I guess.”

Jihyo‘s disapproval is obvious, but her eyes show more mirth in the gaze she sends Sana through the rear view mirror. "Is she well, at least?"

Sana sighs at the mention of the subject, crossing her arms, and her necklace rattles against her chest. "Very much so."

"That's… nice to hear."

"I know you think you need to be supportive," A smile twists onto Sana's features. "But there's no need, really. It's ancient history between us."

"Just feels a little deliberate," Jihyo can't help herself but joke at Sana's expense. "’Nayeon' isn't even slightly close to 'Jihyo' in the phonebook, you drunk. You sure you didn't call her on purpose?"

Sana digs her feet further into the lower backseat at Jihyo's teasing - she knows it's not serious, but it's an indication that Jihyo's significantly less angry than mere moments ago, if not just saving face for the serious conversation to come later.

Then, she thinks of Yeeun. She’ll have to message her tonight.

Dread knots itself in the pit of Sana's stomach quickly, retracting the playful gesture as Jihyo's giggling dies down and she turns up the radio. She's eyeing her off in a critical fashion. Sana knows this look all too well.

It's not just some misplaced concern Jihyo has for her - Sana can't lie to herself. She looks fragile like this, curled in on herself in minimal clothing, face hollow with her now hidden eyebags completing the killer hangover look.

Jihyo has every right reserved on earth to be worried, and Sana despises this fact. Pity is the expression Sana's grown to hate the most of all.

"Drop me off at mine," Sana's serious voice breaks through the calm atmosphere that had formed for a moment in time, and she watches the smile on Jihyo's face die down. "I think - I just need to sleep this off, really. My ankle hurts. I want to go home."

"Wait, are you sure?" Jihyo's flickers back and forth from the road to her friend a couple of times. "I thought we could just get drive-through doughnuts and go back to the flat. Why don't we-"

"Please," Sana weakly exhales.

Jihyo eventually lets out a resigned breath, swiftly swiping the indicator to let the traffic know she'll be turning around.

Jihyo won't drop this forever, but she'll leave Sana alone for the night, and that's enough for the time being.

-

Sana wakes at 10pm with a start, having managed to pass out on the futon at home watching the Discovery channel. She’s elbow deep in a bowl of cheesy corn-related chips that force her stomach to bloat even worse than when she woke up post-intoxication. Sensing the discomfort in her forearm, Sana sorely inspects the imprint of the rubber directory numbers it leaves behind. It reminds her to lift her head after that, look into closed curtains, remember that she's alone.

At least it's her own couch she crashes on tonight.

There's missed calls to tend to, a worried Jihyo checking up to see if Sana's managed to survive the evening - no messages left, of course. Just the ' _Love you x_ ' text sent shortly after she'd arrived home.

One's from Nayeon, regretfully, and Sana makes the mistake of listening to the voicemail.

_"Hey, it's Nayeon. Again. Sorry to call, but, uh, you left your bag here somehow, which is kind of ridiculous. I didn't even notice you had one on, but I found it down the side of the couch. Let me know when you wanna come pick it up. Thanks.”_

For all Sana cares, Nayeon can keep it. It only had napkins and lip gloss in it. She isn't even sure if she can bear to see Nayeon again in general.

There's one more message, though, minimised from the icon of the chat bubble on her laptop. It's this application Jihyo swears by, meaning it's something that probably just popped up on her Instagram feed. Strangers come together to chat anonymously, one on one and be each other's supposed support system to promote positivity and uplift each other. Kind of like tinder, but for sad people, and no action.

Sana thought the idea was ridiculous at first when Jihyo suggested it, but when the loneliness hit at the most inactive point of her career, she put aside the humiliation and made herself a profile, matching with someone in similar patterns immediately. They never really stopped chatting, either, so it's just her and this one other person she calls Camellia chatting at sporadic points for over a year. It's nothing like she thought it'd be - easy, fun, almost.

They never judge her for who she is, because, well, they don't really know her at all, and it's kind of just nice to listen to what's going on in someone else's life for once.

_**camelliaf01**_ : Hey Mera :) How are you doing? Thought I'd check in and see how that big project was coming along. It’s still think it’s pretty fucked up you've been forced to do something so big by your boss so quickly, but I believe in you! 😩 _[5:14pm]_

 _ **camelliaf01**_ : It's been so cold here - but I'm trying to embrace it, at least. My sister never stops complaining, but there's not really much you can do about the weather. Is it cold there? ☔️ _[5:18pm]_

Sana doesn't like the parts where she has to lie to her online friend, but it's necessary for her own personal safety, she concludes. Plus, Yeeun would kill her three times over. She stares at the message a little longer and begins to type.

_**aquamanluvr96**_ : hiya :) so sorry for not replying sooner - i'm really struggling with it, to be quite honest. it's something i never thought i would have to do again, i guess i was wrong. just trying to take it a day at a time. _[10:11pm]_

 _ **aquamanluvr96**_ : it's the same here. ;_; don't get too cold, okay?! make sure to keep warm and wear a thick jacket, or i'll scold you!! _[10:11pm]_

Sana leaves the device and moves to the bedroom, the familiar sickness of anxiety spreading through the cavity of her chest as it always does in the late of the night. The egyptian cotton duvet engulfs her body atop the pretentiously king-sized bed, toes wiggling out the ends just to touch the air, feel a little more alive while she lies awake with her eyes open.

It takes Sana wrapping her face in her own hair to calm her down. The smell of her favourite shampoo, a scent that grounds her.

(She often reads the back of that same bottle's contents in the shower when it’s a particularly bad day, over and over, to stop her heart nearly racing outside of her chest.)

Sana struggles to sleep alone most nights, but the plethora of reasons as to why she definitely should are sobering enough to at least try to ignore it.

-

Sana tweets a photograph of her raspberry & oat muffin in the line for coffee to let the fans know she's alive the following morning.

"It's on us," The cashier interrupts by gushing quietly, leaning in like it hadn't been the manager of the little cafe speaking into her ear about waiving the cost. She looks new against the regular line of staff, uniform a little too clean and crisp. In fact, it's usually the bitter old man with a bald spot that serves her, and he couldn't give less of a shit about who she is. Sana vaguely thinks she misses him. "Your latte won't be long now, Ms. Minatozaki."

"Oh! Thank you, but," Sana apologetically smiles, already reaching for the coins in her purse to place directly into her hand. She'll need to make this brisk, but she's well versed in overly-polite arguments with cashiers and the barista's already steaming the milk. "Really, there's no need."

The cashier's mouth falls open a little as her fingers curl around the coins, somehow shocked at Sana's well-rehearsed response. She moves to the waiting bay before she can be asked for a picture by the cashier and holds up the line.

Her phone vibrates. Chaeyoung. _you alive?_

_you don't check on my social media?_ , sana struggles in typing out the reply with her free thumb, other fingers sticky with the sugar residue, piling it into her mouth hungrily. She fucking missed carbs. _shocked and upset._

_you've officially kicked the puppy_ , Chaeyoung's reply comes in moments later. _jihyo's acting like she's got you on fucking quarantine or something. that bad?_

Sana finds the analogy to be inaccurate. Jihyo is much more alike to a cat than a dog in terms of temperament, and she prefers their company also. She wouldn't be surprised if Slinky, her own, was the most spoiled Siamese cat to have ever lived. The thought of petting his soft fur on leather upholstery is more of a comforting thought than actually seeing Jihyo herself right now.

_big night_ , Sana finally texts back with a troubled expression and mouth full, not wanting to elaborate just yet. The memory of Sana promising Nayeon she'd bring her up comes to mind. _omw to hers now._ Sana ditches the device into her back pocket.

"Caramel latte?" The barista places the beverage before her on the counter, flashing a wide smile he likely perceives to be charming. His arms are folded, and his muscles protrude past the sleeves as if begging to be caressed. "Always a pleasure, Ms. Minatozaki."

"Ah, thank you very much," It never hurts to humour him, sending her own dazzling smile his way as she traipses out, waving a hand above her head as a gesture of leave. Eyes watch her figure ghost the scene, as they always do. "'Til next time."

Sana's taken to wearing the sunglasses Jihyo's lended her once again. It’s mostly in favour of not appearing ill to the general public twice in the course of 24 hours, the other percentage being because she thinks she might buy herself a pair. She adjusts them upon her nose exiting the small shop, the bell chiming behind her to announce her leave.

She's three steps into the pavement before the red bike ahead comes tumbling down.

"Shit, shit, shit, watch OUT!" The woman on the bike shouts, and before Sana can register an adequate reaction, she's frozen in her steps and is sent on a tumble backwards, somehow catching herself before falling backwards and making a fool of herself.

The bicycle screeches to a deafening halt at the brick wall, clattering as it's abandoned on it's side. Sana's chest is heaving, still in shock of almost colliding with the mode of transport and her life very literally flashing before her eyes. The woman on her bike scrambles off the pedals quickly, rushing to Sana's side, and everyone's started watching - it created a scene of some sorts, people whispering about next to the post-box, people pausing across the street just to watch Sana making a fool of herself.

_Embarrassing_.

The terror clutches and claws at her throat.

"I am so sorry," Sana failed to notice the woman had scrambled to her side in the moment she’d been frozen still. Sana can't look up at her properly, only noticing the black varnish on her nails that are reaching out to her in concern, and her voice strangled in remorseful tears. Sana would feel bad for her, it was really only an accident, but the ringing in her head is overwhelmingly distracting.

_Look at her_.

"I'm- I'm so sorry, I really am. God. I was late for an interview here, and I didn't see you walk out of the store, really," The woman pauses to swallow with difficulty, like she's coming to understand that Sana isn't going to listen, staring forward into the road. "Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?"

Sana needs a drink, a proper one. Not a shitty, burnt, caramel latte with the muscles as an unwanted add-on.

"I'll be fine," Sana's finally replies, metallic in taste and sound in an attempt to cool down. It's nothing clipped or unfriendly, just - odd, like the both of them know she isn't invulnerable as she's acting to be, sickly sweet like black treacle.

“Wait,” The woman steps back in slight bewilderment, as the wheels slowly start to spin around in her head when she looks into Sana properly. “You’re… aren’t you—“

Sana straightens her posture, her head held high.

(She acts as if the crown hadn't fallen into the gutter long ago.)

"No need to worry, I’m just fine," Sana ignores it, glimpsing at the red bike over her shoulder once more, with a charming smile. The woman is stuttering feebly. "Good luck with your interview."

Sana turns on her heel, wills away the sharp stabbing sensation in her chest and doesn't look back.

-

Park Jihyo lives in the central business district of the city, upstairs from a cluster of surrounding uptown cafés and popular bars. Sana visits often for their facemask nights when Jihyo insists Sana needs someone to take care of her, which is in the usual Jihyo fashion without saying so forthright to save each other the mortification. Sana supposes it could be why they mend together so well - she never quite does ask for permission, and Sana's learned to stop complaining for her own good.

"I'm home," Sana calls into the dead of her friend's apartment, dropping her phone onto the counter beside the door. It's uncharacteristically dark even with curtains drawn, the sky clearing of any sun making way for the dreary overcast clouds the moment she'd gotten back into her taxi to flee the scene.

"Ah, good, you're here," Jihyo tiredly rubs her palms on her tracksuit pants as she stands from the armchair adorned in a fluffy rug. "Good. We can get a headstart."

"Hold on," Sana catches Chaeyoung's eye from where she's standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed. Sana pauses in her steps, frowning. "Who invited her?!"

"Hey!" Chaeyoung rasps in protest, coming off from leaning against the wall, walking into the centre of the lounge area where Jihyo's shuffling up the pile of paper like it's the means to a will.

"Leave her, Sana," Jihyo interjects, tiredly, before Sana can start up again. "She has as much of a right to be here as I do."

"You're the daughter of a Human Rights lawyer," Sana reminds her, stepping onto the rug where Slinky politely greets her with a muted meow. "Chaeyoung doesn't need to be involved in this."

"Can you please not talk about me like I'm not right here?" Chaeyoung touches Sana's shoulder. She didn’t realise how close the smaller girl had gotten so quickly, rushing to her side. "I give a shit, whether you like it or not. I'm staying, Sana. Let me."

Sana understands her position at this point is futile. The entire reason they're gathered today is for her own issues needing to be resolved, Jihyo altruistically offering to run through the terms with her before presenting it to an actual legal figure. Chaeyoung is obviously just tagging along for the misery. Jihyo must've caught her up. It's the ultimate act of kinship, no matter how fucked up the entire premise is. Sana wishes it didn't have to be this way.

She knows she has a duty though, if not for herself, but for her fans that still care about her, for the responsibilities she holds.

Sana's phase of non-committal single life ends like this - On a Friday afternoon, seated on the floor at Jihyo's feet, absently flicking through the pages with no real conviction. Chaeyoung seats herself back into the corner of the room, a a tiny titanium barricade of support. Jihyo shoots a look up to Sana, who's too nervous to speak first, so Jihyo does her the favour.

" _You're_ really going to do this?" Jihyo asks aloud, one last time, and it's still tinged with a bitter disbelief. Jihyo's entire being doesn't want her to go ahead with this, even past all of the obvious benefits that it will bring everyone concerned. "Are you sure? It's a yes?"

"Yes," Sana repeats. She's never been less sure of anything in her entire life.

Jihyo nods, sadly, and the weight of the paper smacks against the windexed coffee table as she drops it there for the time being. "Chaeyoung?"

"Mhm?"

"I need a highlighter," Jihyo says, and looks to Sana once more for a substantial second. "And the white tequila. Top left cupboard."

Chaeyoung waits for a beat to check if she's joking. "It's… barely 1 o'clock."

"We'll be needing it," Jihyo sagely replies. "Do as you're told."

Chaeyoung grumbles something along the lines of ‘why is it always me', trudging into the kitchen to retrieve the necessities for the operation. Returning with the highlighter first, Jihyo snaps off the lid, furiously reopening the first page. Chaeyoung gnaws on her nails above to watch the scene.

Sana doesn't nearly get drunk enough to hear the terms like they are - they're cold, definite, set in stone for at least 6 months, or so Jihyo thinks. It's probably what she said. She's a little tipsy too, and Chaeyoung veers their shot glasses quickly into the sink, her glittery PVC lightning bolt earrings violently bobbing and swaying before any more damage can be done to the two of them.

The clock reads 3pm when they're all huddled together like that - Chaeyoung's taken to spreading the throwover over the top of their laps, a sort of comfort item in the dark, something to cuddle into while the world figuratively ends.

"This is fucked up," Jihyo croaks halfway through when she inevitably gives up on having to take a shot every time she reads the word 'negotiations', flopping the sheets onto the floor as if it's a hideously ugly object. It's a deadly serious statement and her first real opinion on the subject for the first time, but Sana still lets out a laugh, hollow. "Genuinely fucked up."

"Right, but," Chaeyoung is quietly seething to herself. Sana feels the tremor in her hands as they rest near where her feet lay. "This - this guy - he could be a total prick, for all we know. What then?"

"Wouldn't be the first," Sana honestly replies. She then proceeds to down the last shot poured for herself she's saved on the arm of the couch, the residue heavy and muddy like oil that sticks to the roof of her mouth.

-

"I must admit," Yubin stands at the window, a hand carding into a perfectly pressed pocket as she smokes one of those uselessly thin cigarettes. "I didn't think you'd come around so quickly."

"What I'd learned from last time," Sana purses her lips, grasping onto the terms and conditions with careful fingers in her lap. "-Is that it's better to have it out of the way."

"I like how you think," Yubin is pleased, nodding slowly, unlikely to be listening all that much. "It will do for you nicely."

"When does it start?"

"Effective to begin in two weeks, hopefully," Yubin smooths a wrinkle in the fabric of her dress pants, turning from her musing of the height they are above from the ground. "You have a hand in choosing the suitor, of course."

"Let's... not use that terminology," Yubin lowly chuckles at Sana’s words, a hand resting atop of the desk with the other gesturing for Sana to hand the papers over. She doesn't miss the weight in her hands. "This isn't the Bachelorette."

"I still remember," Yubin's mouth is still upturned in a smirk as she takes a drag from the cigarette. "Teiji Osaki. Bad kisser."

Sana's eyebrow raises at the mention of her past failed operation. No one could've anticipated her costar would flee from the deal after sleeping with the male lead instead - not that Sana minded. It was a relief to her more than the devastation from the public. "You've had the pleasure?"

"No. But, I do have the magazine spread of you two playing tonsil hockey on my shelf somewhere," Yubin flicks the filter in her hand, amused. "I also recall you telling me he was like a washing machine. Spoken since?"

"He was," Sana confirms, almost shuddering at the memory. "And not once. Ran into his boyfriend at the Met Gala last year, though."

"Lucky you," Yubin stares hard into Sana's face. "Look, I understand your hesitation, Sana. I'm not heartless."

"I should hope not," Sana stagnantly replies. Jihyo, who insisted on waiting by the receptionists' desk would be proud of her for such a response. Manager Yeeun, sitting to her left with a hand in her face however, is not so impressed.

"As I said, you have a hand in who is chosen," Yubin assures. "There are options."

"Absolutely," Yeeun adds, lightly touching Sana's arm. She lowers her voice. "You have to remember - There isn't a set person in mind. Yubin wants you to assist in the process."

Yubin leans into the back of her chair as if she's provided an offer Sana simply can't refuse, and it's infuriating. For a deeply beautiful woman with blood red lipstick, she's so prickly, metaphorical thorns encompassing the entire surface of her body as Sana's eyes burn into her skin. She wonders what could've possibly made her become like this. God knows how much it took for Yeeun to bargain the element of choice, and maybe she should be thankful for that, but all she can do is taste the bile in her throat.

This is defeat. "Okay."

"Fantastic," Yubin clasps her hands together, smile thin. "I'll put together some options for you and email them through. If you have any suggestions, we can hold further discussion later. Sound good?"

Yeeun thanks Yubin sweetly for her, patting Sana's hand as a permission to leave the room. Sana wastes no time in her exit to leave the other two to churn out the damage control, stepping out into the hallway that doesn't smell of putrid menthol cigarettes.

Sana knows this building like the back of her hand after years of practically living here - long nights perfecting her performance skills in the training areas, hours of mandatory school time spent in the nearby piano room, playing video games with the rookie male group managed under the same division that see her like an older sister.

Sana could say she's lived here longer than she's lived at home, and it probably wouldn't be a lie.

"Did you give her hell?" Jihyo's eagerly posed at the receptionist's desk, rattling her fingers against the wooden surface as Sana enters the room. The receptionist flashes Jihyo a disapproving look, pressing various buttons onto the keypad of the telephone to redirect a call.

"Something like that."

Sana walks forward enough steps to slump into Jihyo's shoulder, her best friend slightly more short at the best of times. Jihyo pats her back, and they stand like this for some time, the only sound being the voice of the lady a metre away on the phone with an associate. Sana's stomach churns.

"Hey, Jihyo?"

"Yeah?"

"Iced coffee?"

"Sounds good."

-

Sana's fingers stiffen at the keyboard of her laptop.

It's become an addiction of sorts. She'll first be replying to mail, browsing the internet for a recipe to make a meal at home - and Twitter will still be there, begging to be opened. The search function is almost salacious, the keywords she knows all too well waiting to be typed out to her own accord.

Sana thinks of the promise she made to Jihyo in trying to get a good nights' sleep, and the guilt strikes, as hot as the charger port for her laptop overheating against her leg.

Resist.

Sana opens her emails once more, minimising the Twitter browser, scrolling to find a fitting distraction. As it loads, a random application for a giveaway via Booking.com pops up - she has a premium account, considering how many stays she's made over her lifetime as a celebrity. It's an exclusive chance to win a romantic getaway for two in the tiny island of Ulleungdo off the coast, last day to enter — the convenience is compelling.

Sana raises a brow.

What's promised in the attachment is a two-bedroom suite with all expenses paid for a week. Clicking through the pictures, Sana finds the interior of the homestay is nothing short of beautiful, adorned in plants and the bedroom in particular with a dated yet stylish finish.

She snickers. Maybe she can invite the new boyfriend, whoever he ends up to be, and the Dispatch photographer can sleep next door. Yubin would eat that up.

_Screw it_ , she thinks, clicking the button to take her to the homepage. It asks for an email, so she provides a personal one, her name and other contact details in case. The last requirement is a short explanation as to why she deserves to win. She definitely doesn't, is the real answer, but she writes something short and sweet regardless. She makes sure it's been submitted, even if she knows in her heart she won't win.

_Go to sleep_ , she sternly tells herself, yet she doesn't drift for hours.

-

"Are you ever coming to pick up your handbag?"

Nayeon called from another number this time, and Sana was stupid enough to pick up the phone - she'd been purposely avoiding her calls in the past few days for obvious reasons. It's not exactly dignified to continue their embarrassing interactions, is it? Nayeon is irreverently persistent, however, and this was inevitable to happen at one point or another.

"Oh, um, that!" Sana brightly replies. She'd been in the middle of heating up a small butterscotch pudding, a confessed self-pity meal, the microwave beeping it's cheerful melody. "Right! I got your voicemails, sorry. I've been busy, forgot all about it."

"Of course," Nayeon replies, disbelieving. "Well, I'm at work, but my roommate just got back from filming. Do you remember which area I'm in to come and grab it?"

"Filming?" Sana prompts. She slams the microwave shut.

"She's in that new crime drama," Nayeon elaborates, sounding more than just a little proud. "Up and coming. Recently casted - she's good. Too humble though. She'll make it big someday."

"I wish her luck."

"You can tell her that in person, if you like," Nayeon continues. "Pick it up this afternoon."

"Oh," Sana hesitates, picking a spoon out of the drawer. "A-actually, Nayeon, I have a-"

"I'll let Joy know you'll be coming over!" Nayeon cheerily interrupts. "I'll text the address in case you don't remember. Bye, Sana."

-

Sana must admit - she feels nothing short of ridiculous trudging down the small alley to Nayeon's apartment building for the second time, especially dressed in Calvin Klein tracksuit pants and random graphic t-shirt she'd thrown on. It's like a second walk of shame except this time, there's no mascara residue on her cheeks.

Sana nervously enters the buttons on the call machine, instantaneously buzzed to be let inside of the block without speaking on the other line. The noise stuns her a little, and she apprehensively opens the sliding door, taking the elevator to Nayeon's floor.

Briskly knocking on the door, a voice calls from behind it that she'll be a second. A girl is shuffling a pair of indoor sandals on her feet as the wood whips open moments later, and Sana takes a step back in surprise.

"Sorry, just got home!" Joy, if Sana remembers correctly, adjusts the heel of her sock, bent half downwards, her dangling earrings wobbling back and forth. "Nayeon's friend, right?"

"Uh, yeah.”

This is the voice she'd heard that morning, and now she has a face to the name (a rather pretty one, might she add) she's a lot less composed than what she'd like to be. She’s severely underdressed in comparison to the woman before her with a full face of makeup. Sana briefly wonders what her role in this drama is supposed to be, with her cat-eye liner.

"Ah, yes, the Louis Vuitton ensemble," Joy gaudily clatters her keys against a table next to the doorframe. The words aren't meant as a jab, or at least it doesn't feel like one - in fact, it dawns on Sana that this woman might have no idea who she is. "I think it's still on the coffee table where she left it. I'll go grab it."

"Ah - thank you. I'm sorry to be a bother," Sana peers into the apartment apologetically as Joy retreats to pick up her belongings, figuring now is a better time than never to mend from the lies Nayeon excused her with. "I wasn't exactly… in a good way, and Nayeon let me crash here. Nothing happened, I promise."

"Hey, we've all been there," Joy grins, craning her neck upward as she keels over to pick it up. "Nayeon makes up shit all the time to sound cool and unaffected when it comes to her not-girlfriend."

"Oh. I-"

"Don't know why she couldn't drop this off herself in the first place, to be honest," Joy cuts Sana off, rolling her eyes. "I keep telling her; she needs to stop working so much and take a damn holiday already.”

Sana knows why she couldn't, but she says nothing, cradling her thumb between her palms before Joy outstretches the handbag for her to take.

"I really am sorry you had to come all this way," Joy sheepishly smiles at Sana, sincere, and this pretty stranger she has nothing to do with really seems like she genuinely feels bad.

"I was the one that left it here, after all," Sana briskly pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nayeon was doing me the favour."

Joy nods. "'Guess so. She said you guys go way back, right? I'm sure we'll meet again soon then.”

Sana doubts it, because the moment she's bid her goodbyes to Joy and walked from the apartment, wind whips against the heat in her cheeks as she feverishly blocks Nayeon's number from her contact list.

-

Sana isn't particularly happy Yeeun is forcing her to attend this uselessly rigged music awards show, but it's a public appearance nonetheless, and it's a chance to look pretty for the cameras that supposedly adore her in a sparkly gown.

"You need to get more sleep, Sana," Chaeyoung huffs a strand of her overgrown bangs out of her face so she can concentrate on the charred toothpick curling Sana's lashes. "I can't work with… _this_."

Chaeyoung pulls away, dipping a pointed blending brush into a darker shade for the extension of her outer corner - it invites the illusion of appearing much less tired, apparently. Sana whines, allowing herself to blink slowly a few times before Chaeyoung moves to attack her face again. "I'm not _trying_ to make your job harder, you know..."

"Dummy," Chaeyoung mutters, flicking Sana in the forehead, who has the most late reaction possible. "I'm just saying you need to take care of yourself more. There's only so much concealer in the world to cover your dark circles."

"It's hard to sleep," Sana admits, something she's never really entertained to her younger friend, even if it's painfully obvious as her head makeup artist. Chaeyoung stills at this, if only for a moment, continuing to smoothly blend the brown shade outward.

"I know," Chaeyoung says, serious. "With all of this stuff going on again, I'd understand why you couldn't. How long until it drops?"

"Over a week."

"Damn," is all Chaeyoung says, and well, she’s right. Damn, indeed.

Sana doesn't reply. Chaeyoung understands her even better than Jihyo, sometimes, in the moments where nothing is said at all.

"Alright, enough talk of that," Yeeun bursts into the changing rooms, a piece of paper fiddling between her fingers nervously, probably the schedule for the night. It's Sana's first event since a couple of months, and Yeeun thinks this is the be-all and end-all of her career. "Sana's nearly on, everything ready?"

"Ah, ah," Chaeyoung obnoxiously finishes her final strokes, standing back to admire her work while Yeeun irritatedly stands on and checks her watch. "Don't rush the masterpiece."

"The masterpiece has two minutes," Yeeun deadpans, pointing towards the door as Sana's already beginning to stand and brush down the fabric. "Let's go."

Chaeyoung bids her farewell, taking and kissing a hand for good luck as she flees from the scene, Yeeun hurriedly pushing her down the hall by the small of her back. Sana nods and bows kindly to the staff passing along, pulling her dress up by the hem so she makes sure not to step on the sequins, and Sana loses her manager as she's ushered by venue staff to stand before the line, next for the red carpet. There's an idol group ahead of her, politely laughing and smiling along with the host's requests and questions before it's her turn to be called.

"Next to walk the carpet is… Sana!"

Sana takes a deep breath, painting on her smile as the cameras begin to flash and pleas for eye contact begin to surface from the forefront of the media. She waves once, sending stunning smiles to the girls and boys screaming her name at the sides, trying to make as much of this experience exactly what they paid for.

"So," The host starts, waiting until Sana's properly settled by his side. "I think the fans are all wondering the same thing I am," Sana's back stiffens, and she notices the cameras clicking wildly.

"It's been a long while since your last album. What can we expect from you next, and when?" The host seems so chuffed with himself, so happy to have asked the same question every interviewer's been doing for the past six months.

Sana airily laughs, covering her mouth like there's any secrets to be kept, but it's the same robotic answer, every time. "Still in production! I can't reveal too much, I'm afraid."

"Ahh! Did you hear that? There is an album coming," The host happily claps his hands together in performative glee. “But tell me, darling Sana… Are we expecting any of these tracks to be about a certain... you-know-who?"

Sana wasn't prepared for such a baring question on a red carpet of all things, and the host's eyes are filled with amusement. Sana's quick to laugh a second time, but it’s much less convincing, bitter and she can feel Yeeun staring a hole into her side. She’s hidden in the drapes to enter the arena, pressing for the 'no comment' answer she has a right to reply with. Sana does her one better.

"A lady never kisses and tells," Sana places a lone finger to her lips in a 'shh' motion, and the crowd titters as she pushes aside the humiliation and frustration in priority of entertaining the people actually here for her. Sana can tolerate a little bullshit from the press, but she hasn't had to deal with the nosiness for a while and remembers why exactly she went on her hiatus in the first place.

The host purses his lips - it’s not a satisfactory answer for a job of his kind and a well-rehearsed one at that, but he knows what he’s being paid for and gracefully allows Sana to leave the stage while the next actor makes his way to the podium. Sana lets the hair cascading down her shoulder fall over her face as she mouths a curse at him in her leave.

“How are you feeling about it?” Yeeun walks quickly to keep up with Sana’s pace, teetering behind sounding giddy. “You were perfect, in my opinion.”

“Average,” Sana replies. “He was intolerable. The fans were amazing as always, of course.”

Yeeun lets out a quiet snort. “Did you really expect anything better?”

“And there’s still the award announcement to go,” Sana groans, and as they take a left to queue in the green room, Yeeun almost runs into some interns squabbling over a pile of papers and she frowns scarily at them, the two scattering away in fear. “I can’t be bothered.”

“You’re reading off a piece of cardboard!” Yeeun whisper-shouts, wildly looking around to see if anyone heard - no one in the area is listening anyway, too busy fluttering about regarding a piece of the extended stage being faulty. Sana sure misses performing, but she definitely doesn’t miss her safety being compromised. “Don’t be lazy.”

“Not lazy,” Sana huffs. She definitely is, but she’s not admitting that. Sana leans against the wall while Yeeun flashes her I.D badge to the person manning the door. “Just exhausted.”

“It’s 6pm,” Yeeun massages her temple, blinking at Sana more times than she can count. “Directly behind me is Park Seojoon, drinking a yoghurt pack. He’s your announcement partner. Do you know how many people would kill to have Park Seojoon as their partner at an award show?”

“I saw him pick his nose while we were rehearsing.”

Yeeun breathes a world-weary sigh, hands Sana back her phone from her breast-pocket and collapses onto the couch beside her.

Sana quickly checks her lock-screen, watching the notifications flutter through with pictures from tonight’s event, her many celebrity acquaintances posting their beautiful dresses. The picture Yeeun made her take has 100,000 likes on Instagram already- she’s a PR genius, that woman. She’s about to check the comment section just as an email comes in - Sana frowns, swiping to open up her inbox when she notices it’s from the booking website she applied to.

It takes more than a few seconds to load, and her heart practically leaps out of her throat at the headline.

**_“DREAM HOLIDAY IN THE ISLAND PARADISE OF ULLEUNGDO - YOU’VE WON!”_ **

Sana blinks, fingers touching her parted lips in disbelief. Surely not. She scrolls the expanse of the email, double checking she’s read it correctly - it includes an extra inquiry email and a lengthy congratulations. It almost seems inappropriate to laugh, as the entire room is standing in an almost unsettling silence preparing for stage instructions, but Sana doesn’t care. She lets out a bark of laughter at the sheer funniness of the situation.

What are the chances?

Yeeun looks up at her strangely. “Are you watching another one of those Tiktoks? Because I’ve been thinking, we should get to updating yours sometime soon. All the kids use it now.”

Sana’s mouth twitches, clicking on the website that directs her to the contact number of the hotel desk. Should she call later? No, of course not. She’s not actually going to go. What’s the point?

(A small part of her mind wonders maybe if it would be a good idea to organise something for the future, when all of this blows over. She’ll have some guaranteed place to relax - who knows, maybe she’ll like the one Yubin gives her this time. Maybe they can even go as friends.)

Sana stares hard down at the number listed, almost forgetting to reply to Yeeun. “Oh, yeah. Good idea.”

Sana copies the digits and pastes them into her notes. It’s just an idea, after all - no hard limits, or contracts of commitment - just what Sana needs right now. Sana looks longingly into the flooring of the venue, knowing that no matter who she’ll discuss it with, it’ll be a tense conversation, and end in the exact way she knows it will.

-

_**aquamanluvr96**_ : hey, camellia… how are you going? how’s your sister? what have you been up to? _[11:20pm]_

_**camelliaf01**_ : Hi Mera, here’s my update - the weather here remains terrible, and my sister is still miserable as ever. Feels like I’m going insane from the quiet, but I cope with the boredom, I promise. Hope you’re well :) _[11:24pm]_

**_aquamanluvr96_** : i’m the same as i was last week. i think things just got a whole lot more complicated with the work thing, by the way... i’ve just been offered this amazing opportunity out of nowhere, but i think i have to say no :( i really want to do it, but there’s a conflict of interest. my friends won’t want me to but… yeah. it just sucks. _[11:32pm]_

( ** _camelliaf01_** is typing…)

_**camelliaf01**_ : Conflict with who?! A real friend would support you in anything you want to do. You should listen to yourself… Do what you think is right for your own happiness. Coming off as a bit of a hypocrite, here, but you deserve to be happy and be free! Do whatever you want, Mera, be happy :) _[11:40pm]_

-

“So… why’d you call me here?” Jihyo calls, slipping off her shoes and shoving her toes into Sana’s home slippers she keeps reserved for her best friend. Jihyo trods over, straw in her mouth. They should really do something about her caffeine addiction. “Not a complaint, genuinely wondering. You’ve been a little AWOL the past couple of days. Did you get my text?”

“Just wanted to hang out.”

“Lie,” Jihyo deadpans.

“Fine. I told Yubin I don’t care,” Sana blurts, not bothering to look over her shoulder and placing hangers of clothing onto her bed. Sana decides against telling Jihyo at the last second - what a ridiculous idea that was. “To choose whoever for the deal.”

Jihyo’s squeaks of movement towards her halt, but Sana continues organising her pile with no sign of stopping. She’s told herself it’s a day to clean out her room - the number in her phone’s been eating at her for the past couple of days, so she’s taken to any distraction she can find around her apartment.

“And you did this… for what reason?” Jihyo echoes, disapproval clear. “Why wouldn’t you take advantage of that offer?”

“There’s not really an actual choice,” Sana laughs, always tinkling, even when it’s fake.

“I’m just going to tell you right now - that’s possibly the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,” Jihyo sips on her coffee, sinking down onto the end of her bed. “Like ever.”

“Makes it more exciting!” Sana exclaims, and Jihyo’s annoyance in her change of attitude is evident. Sana’s doing the thing where she pretends like something’s not eating her alive, and she’s invited Jihyo over to convince her out of it. “Like a lucky dip.”

“You’re giving up,” Jihyo says, and Sana finally pauses, opening her mouth to say something just as Jihyo quickly fixes it shut. “No, you really are, and it’s bullshit. Stop it.”

“I don’t win either way,” Sana says, passing as nonchalant as she adjusts the cardigan on it’s hanger. It’s pretty - fit for a beach setting at dusk, she thinks, maybe with a pretty dress and a sunhat. “So why bother.”

Jihyo stands, hovering where Sana is leaning down, eyeing her skeptically. She’s too close to her personal bubble, and Sana moves to lean back just as Jihyo’s face softens.

“Talk to me.”

“Okay,” Sana shakily exhales. “Well… I lied again. I’ve been avoiding her calls so I don’t actually know what’s happening. Like, at all. Sorry.”

“That’s...” Jihyo frowns, shaking her head. “You’re forgiven. Just tell me what’s going on with you. Now.”

Sana searches her friend’s face - all she finds is concern, empathy, a little tiredness swimming in them. Jihyo stays awake late nowadays too, the weight of her own worries hanging off her back. It’s what stops Sana from mentioning it to her for real, this time. She doesn’t need one more thing to worry about, certainly not now - and Jihyo would just try to shut the idea down.

“I just don’t want another straight guy,” Sana lies, turning away. “Someone that won’t have the potential to catch feelings… you know? That understands!”

Jihyo tilts her head, but she doesn’t catch her out or question it - the consequences of deceiving her best friend will definitely sink itself in later. “Can’t you just... mention that? She’s done it before, why wouldn’t she now?”

“Less options, I guess. A higher chance of hiring an ass.”

“Now Sana, you need to remember, all men are asses,” Jihyo backs out of Sana’s space once more to shudder freely. “Some just slightly less. Give Yeeun a call and tell her instead, though. Maybe she can relay the message. You definitely still have time. They run that place so tight, it’s like a fucking newspaper joint.”

“Yeah, I’ll give her a call,” Sana uneasily smooths her hand over a jacket. Jihyo continues to happily hum about now, absently thrifting through a lifestyle magazine that rested upon the table next to Sana’s bed. Sana makes her want to stop, tell her the truth of what’s happened, but it’s just not possible right now. She pulls up the hangers to place back into her wardrobe all at once.

“Why’d you pull all of them out, anyway? Do it bit by bit or you’ll get overwhelmed,” Jihyo licks a finger before turning the page, snickering as Sana piles them in. “I swear, your bed looks as bad as mine whenever I pack for Dad’s.”

Sana’s stomach churns, the bitterness and guilt building up in her belly. It makes greetings to the greasy leftover pizza she had for lunch an hour prior.

Sana realises, now, that no matter her choice — whether it be Camellia’s advice, or the fact she knows Jihyo would tell her she’s just trying to run for the hills - this isn’t just going to be a passive decision, and she’s going to need to figure it out sooner rather than later.

-

Ulleungdo is prettier in Naver generated images compared to the pixelated ones on the Tourism website.

Sana realises she neglected her research - who applies for a holiday without even looking up the destination? She sits at her laptop poised with a glass of wine, vaguely watching traveller vlogs and flicking through scenic pictures of the pebbly beaches and sunsets and the island’s famous squid. Everyone smiles while they’re in Ulleungdo, apparently, and everyone is happy. Seems peaceful enough.

Flicking back to the email, she scrolls down, realising she’d never taken the moment to zoom in on the picture provided. It’s of two women, standing outside of the building, arms around one another’s waists. Sana raises her eyebrows at the subtitle - it lists that they run it, together, as siblings. She can’t see past the graininess much, but she decides the bottle blonde one definitely looks a little young to be running an establishment in a partnership. It’s curious - perhaps a family run business from the start recently passed down, or something.

“Shower’s free!”

Sana smacks the lid of the laptop shut as Jihyo exits the bedroom in nothing but a bleached towel, shooting her a quizzical look after looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“You picked a movie yet? Let’s watch something girly, I’m in the mood,” Jihyo pauses, looking her up and down like she wants to say something but can’t quite get the words out, shaking the thoughts away. Sana blinks. “Ah! What’s that one cheerleader movie you like?”

“Bring It On.”

“Yes! Right! Let’s watch that,” Jihyo walks past her, warmly pinching her right cheek. “That one always makes you feel better.”

Jihyo’s doing her usual nightly rounds - it’ll involve divvying the ancient pot of nail polish in her handbag, giggling about general gossip in the workplace she needs to get off her chest. It distracts Jihyo from her worries and honestly, it helps Sana sometimes to not have to think about anything when they spend time together, and she likes to spend time with her friend.

It’ll probably be their last cheerful greeting for a while, so Sana sits back in her reclining couch and lets Jihyo punch words into the Netflix remote.

-

Hell arrives sooner than Sana had perhaps originally thought.

“So the deal is, we get in there, let her know and get it sorted,” Yeeun nods along to her own words, Sana staring out of the window. “She told me it won’t be a problem, just pick off the list and you’ll be fine.”

Yeeun’s phone buzzes in her hands as she’s waving it about wildly, answering neutrally, about to let them know she’s busy — then a stricken look passes over her face after a couple of moments.

Her voice is shrill with alarm. “ _What_?”

Sana snaps to her attention, watching the colour drain from her manager’s face. Whatever it is, it’s not good, and something tells her they’ll be skipping by the nearby Starbucks this morning. Yeeun pauses from her frantic outburst, tapping madly away at the screen before her face pales.

“Get to the bottom of this. I’m calling her now,” Yeeun hisses into the receiver, ending the call with an aggressive tap of her thumb. Sana looks at her expectantly, and Yeeun’s cheeks are gaunt when she finally meets Sana’s gaze. Something’s gone dreadfully, dreadfully wrong in the plan, and Sana’s old and experienced enough now to know exactly what’s happened. She sees the green reflection of the Naver headline reflecting upon Yeeun's stripey white suit.

Yubin’s never been prolific for her patience. This is punishment for not returning her calls, her emails. Sana’s not even surprised - Yubin’s never played fair in her lifetime, not even once.

“She did it,” Sana whispers. A piece of her still foolishly holds out for that little flicker of hope, but Yeeun crushes it, clutching at her client’s knee.

“I’m sorry,” Yeeun’s voice is quiet. “I promise you, it wasn’t meant to be now, I had no idea she-“

“But it is now,” Sana shifts her leg, letting Yeeun’s hand fall to plush seating. “You’ll have to confirm it.”

“Sana…”

“It’s okay,” Sana says, her voice sounding foreign coming from her own throat. “You won’t need me at the office anymore, though, so is it okay to turn around?”

“Of course, Sana,” Yeeun’s face crumples up, and Sana’s chest squeezes. This is the face of a woman who's stuck with Sana for years, who knows exactly what she’s been through, and understands all of her personal fears always come toppling down in the form of contractual obligation. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

It’s true. It’s not her fault, never is. She’s just doing her job, and that’s ultimately what it comes down to. Some things are strictly business.

Sana would do better to learn that it’s never personal, not even for someone like Yubin, who’s basis of career is making Sana’s personal life a living hell.

-

Sana’s phone practically blows up the second it lands on the dining table, a chorus of texts from Jihyo telling her not to read the comments and calls sounding out from Chaeyoung. She switches off the ringer setting and stands, still, unsure of what to do next. Her eyes sting, but she can’t cry. The numbness spreads throughout the surface of her chest.

What the hell is she supposed to do now?

There’ll be meetings. She’s going to have to see Yubin’s smug face tomorrow, get in that damn car with Yeeun again, get her picture taken leaving the apartment. _Sana, are you seeing Yuto with good feelings? Sana, did you only meet Yuto recently? Sana, tell us, is Yuto Makamoto good in bed?_

“Fuck,” Sana hisses, smacking her forehead with her lower palm. The dull headache only gets worse, even after pouring herself two glasses of water, walking in circles around the small kitchen. She’s got about an hour until Jihyo bombards her way in, if she doesn’t count the morning traffic.

Sana paces to her bedroom on impulse, opening her wardrobe doors - all of her clothes remaining on hangers she pulls out once again, filtering quickly through what she thinks she needs - enough for up to a month. She unplugs her charger from the bedside, gathers basic toiletries and plunks them all in the suitcase hidden at the base of her cupboard. The wheels clack against the flooring as she gathers a broad hat and a scarf, hanging off a stand.

She can leave through the back entrance through the carpark, Sana thinks, already picking up her landline. No one will see, if she’s quick and smart enough about it.

Sana punches in the number she’s practically memorised by now on her fridge, and waits with shaky legs. It takes a while for the line to connect, and Sana grips onto the plastic for dear life when she hears the male’s voice in greeting.

“Hi. I’d like to book the next bus to Gangneung, please. Do you accept phone payment?”

Sana’s voice wavers as she recites her security number, staring hard into the calendar on her fridge. How many days will she need to cross off when she gets back? She wraps the scarf around her neck, pulling it over to hide her nose. It’s not shame, but it’s not exactly excitement, either. It just feels like the adrenaline of running away from home as a child.

(Sana lives alone, though, so when she leaves, the apartment will be empty, and no one will be waiting with a warm meal for when she comes home.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been holding onto this one for a while, decided to publish. hope you guys like it 💖 
> 
> yell at me on twitter if you do! @jeonghyonation


	2. Chapter 2

The last time Sana had hitched a ride on a 45 seat metro bus was when she was a trainee. Her legs would nervously fidget on the way to her high school classes, back when she expected to place half of her time into preparing for a spot in one of the next top girl-groups.

  
  


She ended up dropping out well before her graduation and got shoved into the spotlight at seventeen.

  
  


The Gangneung driver slaps a numbered sticker onto Sana’s suitcase without a second look, allowing her to board the bus with her head held as far down as possible. It’s mostly empty the whole ride, save for a pair of older women with greying hair squabbling in the far end of the seats with their mesh bags of fruit. They join the journey halfway through. The chairs are a scratchy, velvety texture, with a cupholder in-between the middle. A small television screen above instructs the passenger to keep their seatbelts on.

  
  


Sana’s phone buzzes rhythmically against her leg -- she can only imagine what half of the messages say. _Sana, pick up, right now. Sana. Are you home? Can we talk? Want to catch up? You can’t lock yourself inside forever. Let’s have a drink together. It’s been a while! Let me in, please._

  
  


“Excuse me, dear,” A finger taps Sana’s shoulder gingerly, and Sana almost jumps out of her skin. It’s one of the women from the back, out of her seat, smiling down. “Would you like a tangerine?”

  
  


“A tangerine?” Sana echoes, confused. “Ah - I mean… thank you, but I couldn’t take that from you.”

  
  


“I insist! I have too many to take home,” The lady smiles, skin around her eyes creasing as she reaches into the bag. “Here. You look like you could use one.”

Sana doesn’t have much of a chance to show offence, or even utter a ‘thank you’ -- the lady practically forces out her arm, placing it in Sana’s palm with a decided pat. She chuckles to herself upon returning to her spot, as Sana’s left to stare at the object in her palm. It’s not sabotaged or modified to poison her or anything; it’s just a plain old tangerine, given in good deed. The sunglasses were supposed to _hide_ her weariness, for God’s sake - she needs a refund.

  
  


Sana’s phone still won’t stop, but she’s too scared to check in case all of the messages spill out, making her feel entirely worse for the impulsive decision. It’s mostly still Jihyo, frantically machine gun texting her to tell her where she is. Sana’s mouth is dry reaching for it, and closing her eyes, she presses the home button. 

  
  


**[unknown number]**

_I saw. I still remember how you feel about this sort of thing. It’s probably useless coming from me, but if you ever need anything, don’t be a stranger. - Nayeon._

  
  


Sana drops it onto the chair without a second thought, not allowing the slight chance of formulating a response. _Nope_. Yes, she acknowledges that it’s incredibly irresponsible, all of this -- but she’ll make sure to call Jihyo first, just to let her know she’s okay. She’ll talk to her on the boat in a couple of hours. Sana sharply jabs her thumb into the fruit, zest spraying back against her.

  
  


She picks and peels mindlessly at the rind until all pieces scatter in the square of her lap.

  
  


-

  
  


Clouds plague the sky as Sana boards the ferry for Ulleungdo.

  
  


It’s a large ship -- she wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Something much smaller, more tin-like, perhaps. Aren’t ferries supposed to be humbly-sized? Sana feels her shoulders hunch to keep her appearance minimal in line for the ticket’s final approval. She’s trying not to make a spectacle of herself as the wheels loudly click against the boards. There aren’t many people around, but the last thing she needs hours after a dating scandal is to be recognised and photographed. 

  
  


It’s windy while she waits, chilly even - it must be from the proximity to the sea. Sana regrets not grabbing a cardigan to shove on before sneaking out of the apartment block.

  
  


“Next, please!”

  
  


Sana trudges forward, passing over her ticket into the weathered booth. The girl behind the glass has her blonde hair in a ponytail, wearing a relaxed striped shirt. Possibly a local. She takes one look at the ticket and holds her free hand out. 

  
  


“Apologies, but are you able to take off the glasses? I just need to see a form of ID.” 

  
  


Sana tries not to let her composure falter, carefully unsheathing them from her eyes. Her arm falls awkwardly to her side as she passes over her license. She’s going to say something, for all of these people in line to hear. Sana braces herself for the blow. 

  
  


“I see,” The woman shortly tuts, looking Sana up and down through the glass. Sana’s gut lurches when she takes a little too long examining her face. It makes sense to be confused about a pop-star travelling exposed to the public like this. Sana resorts to telepathically begging. _Please. Please. Please don’t react._

  
  


“I technically shouldn’t accept this as it’s now expired… but you’ve come all this way,” The woman’s tone changes, saccharine. Sana’s stunned. “It would be such a shame. Do you have any other forms of identification in your luggage?”

  
  


Sana can’t recollect even sitting for her driving test -- maybe years ago when she still had things like that to value. Her cheeks burn in shame. The officials upon purchase of the ticket had vaguely checked and not said a word. “Oh. Um, I keep my passport in there, it’s in my-”

  
  


“Just make sure to use it instead next time,” The woman rips the yellow side of her ticket, passing the other through the hole with a pat. Sana’s let off with a warning. “Are you sure you don’t want to book a return date now? We strongly recommend it. Much less of a hassle later.”

  
  


Sana places her sunglasses back upon the bridge of her nose, pulling down at her sleeve nervously. “I’m not quite sure when I’ll be returning.”

  
  


“Understood,” The woman doesn’t press any further, but there’s a knowing look in her eye. “Please have a safe trip, and in advance, welcome.”

  
  


Sana fastens her luggage to the belt provided aboard, gathering at the hull of the ship once she’s finished. There weren’t as many people on there as she thought. Most standard seats are empty while Sana scored herself a premium. Now’s the time - the boat crew are finished withdrawing from the boardwalk, reeling in the weight that holds down the ship. Sana fishes into her pocket, blurring her eyes and presses it so hard into the shell of her ear it hurts. Jihyo picks up on the first ring.

  
  


_“Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been worried sick; you know that? Do you know how many times I tried to call?”_ Jihyo’s spitting and Sana can hear just how worried she is. The guilt lodges itself in her throat. _“I - I’m just glad you’re safe. You are, right? Where are you? You’re not staying alone tonight, and I'm coming to get you.”_

  
  


“I’m going away for a while.”

  
  


There’s a lengthy pause. _“What?”_

  
  


If she tells Jihyo the truth, Jihyo will convince her out of the idea altogether - she’ll hop on the next boat to Ulleungdo herself, haul her best friend out of the mess, but Sana’s gotten this far - she might as well go the whole way. What Jihyo doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

  
  


“I can’t be in Seoul right now, y’know?” Sana puts on the brightest voice she can muster. “Think of this as a little holiday. Some me-time.”

  
  


_“Where?”_

  
  


“I’m staying with my Aunt,” Sana lies. “She’s offered to let me stay for a while, in her house in Gosan. Everything’s locked up.”

  
  


Silence precedes on the other line, just controlled breathing. _“You’re safe?”_

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


_“Promise?”_

  
  


“Yeees.”

  
  


_“Good,”_ Jihyo breathes a sigh of relief. _“I’ll tell Chaeyoung.”_

  
  


“Hey, Jihyo? I’m about to run into bad reception,” Her eyes sting. “I’ve gotta go.”

  
  


_“Message me when it picks back up,”_ Jihyo urges. _“The next time I call, I expect you to pick up, too. Got it?”_

  
  


“I will.”

  
  


_“And Sana?_ ” Jihyo says, much more quietly. _“Don’t read the comments.”_

  
  


Sana turns to the water, only able to watch the Gangneung port be left behind in tidal waves and quiet chugs of the machine as it propels through the waves as she presses the button to signal the end of the call.

  
  


-✿-

  
  


The Island is even more cold coming off the boat, and for at least a good ten minutes, Sana believes she’s going to be sick.

  
  


The first thing she notices is how quiet it is - it’s probably the weather to thank for that. Sana pointedly ignores the grimace of the ticket vendor from before flipping the sign on the gate as ‘Do not Enter.’ as she walks past, trying to think nothing of it. The air smells like salt, flowers, earth scattered amongst the rocks.

  
  


Her luggage barely makes it over them, wheels hopelessly sinking into the sand. Dragging it along is eye-catching for sure, and she realises just how many things she packed into this suitcase - it has to be heavier than her body mass. Maybe she didn’t need quite so much skincare, not while she’ll be living near the purities of the sea.

  
  


Sana just can’t wait to walk on the beach alone, not have to worry about a single thing happening back home. Not at least until things cool down, anyway.

  
  


“I can help you with that.” 

  
  


Sana hears the voice from behind, and the dread sets in as she grips the handle of her American Tourister even tighter.

  
  


“No thank-you,” Sana replies politely, not making any eye contact in case of encouraging the offerings further. “I’ve got it.”

  
  


“Are you sure?” The woman isn’t convinced. She jogs up to where Sana trudges sadly along, her delicate sandals barely making it as they sink deeper into the sand. The other is wearing boots, the steel-capped kind. They crunch against the coarse sand. “I can show you where to go if you like.”

  
  


“I’m fine,” Sana insists, waving nonchalantly. “No need.”

  
  


“Ah,” The woman responds, but she doesn’t leave Sana alone, much to her annoyance. She continues to walk alongside her, and Sana watches her arms crossed behind her back as if she wants to say something. “The exit to Jeodong is in the opposite direction, on the path, by the way.”

  
  


Sana pauses abruptly in her tracks, blushing furiously. “Right. Yes... I knew that.”

  
  


Begrudgingly following the stranger back to the main port, her stupidity sets in. How had Sana missed all of that fencing? The path was covered by leafy greenage, to be fair, sweeping over the entire appearance of the grey sky passing underneath. Sana _so_ wishes the doom and gloom will clear up by tomorrow - what the hell is this? She needs to get her tan on, and _fast._

  
  


“Will you be okay from here?” The woman dips into the pockets of her pants. “You can just call a taxi, and it’ll take you to wherever you plan to stay, no problems. It’s not that big of a village anyway. If you’re looking to get to Dodong, it’s only a 15-minute trip.”

  
  


“I’ve got it from here,” Sana bristles, adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder with force. “Thank you.”

  
  


The woman backs off slowly, sending Sana a small smile in turn before her departure. Sana takes her chance to glance up because curiosity trumps a sense of pride every time - her saviour’s face is impossibly small, mouth etched with a lopsided smile. There’s white paint encrusted in spatters across the khaki on her jeans. She’s around Sana’s age, surely, but she walks away like she’s lived here for centuries. 

  
  


Sana breathes heavily through her nose and opens her phone, eyes widening when it shows she has no reception loaded. She turns it on and off again, but to no avail does anything come up - no signs of data, no mobile reception, and absolutely no chance of calling a damn taxi. 

  
  


“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Sana grumbles, smacking the back of her phone hard for a couple of seconds in frustration before accepting her defeat. The vendor lady from before is long gone, and Sana only has the direction she walked in and a steady stream of pebbles upon the coast to help her find her way and hopefully spot a taxi waiting nearby.

  
  


Sana trudges along the pathway, glancing up every few moments at the substantial structure overhead. It arches as the main port comes into sight, various fishing boats aligned against each other swaying softly in the water. Sana’s chest feels like it’s going to explode from how much she has to carry. What’s been a ten-minute walk feels like it’s been hours once she reaches the main road, where the structures of the buildings she sees are square with little window panes overlooking the sea.

  
  


It only takes a couple of steps up the stairs to the main road to spot one lazily waiting by the bay. Sana asks to get to the main village of the island, and the driver hops out, visibly struggling with the weight of the luggage loading it into the hatchback. She reads him the address, and he speeds off, Sana holding the handle above her head for dear life.

  
  


On the rear door, it reads; _“Welcome to the mysterious island: ULLEUNGDO.”_

  
  


-✿-

  
  
  


The taxi driver apologises profusely for not being able to go further up the hill, but Sana just accepts it graciously and adds a little extra money into the price of the trip for his troubles. Now, the only issue is the pair of stairs she’s supposed to climb. Why in the world is a guesthouse located on such a distant hill? 

  
  


Sana buckles for the steep walk -- she's learned to put the tote bag on top of the suitcase and wrap it around the handle, as it makes it much easier to haul up the steps with both hands. Sana grunts when the wheels smack hard against the wooden steps, feeling the dirt cover the heels of her feet. 

  
  


Sana manages to reach the end, doing a small dance of victory to herself with her bracelets jingling on her wrist. It's abruptly interrupted by the reappearance of the blonde girl with long legs. She’s wearing a hat now, made of straw. 

  
  


“Oh,” The woman says. “You again.”

  
  


_“Ahh!”_

  
  


Sana knocks the suitcase back with her leg in shock, sending it to tumble down the steps miserably. She scrambles to chase after a delayed reaction, right until it hits bottom and pops open with all of her clothes flying everywhere.

  
  


Sana just wants to die, like _right now_.

  
  


She rushes to grab what’s strewn across the overgrown footpath - a few tops, a pair of pants and some jewellery she’d rather not think about possibly getting scratched. To make matters worse, the stranger’s followed behind in tow. 

Sana lifts her eyes to see her attempting to pack away a bra that had fallen out discreetly. If Sana isn’t mistaken between her own embarrassment, a blush shapes along the woman’s neck.

  
  


“I’ve got it!” Sana snatches it from her grasp, hurriedly placing it underneath a pair of comfortable tracksuit pants. “Leave it, please. I’m fine, I’m fine, I-”

  
  


The woman rubs her hands together as she hauls herself back up from her knees. “Do you have trouble accepting help, or something?”

  
  


“It’s not that!” Sana almost shrieks, desperately rubbing the dirt from her Off-White jeans with her knuckles. It’ll take a proper wash to get that stain out - she’s pissed. “I’m okay; I’m just trying to do things myself. For once.”

  
  


The woman chuckles. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t try to haul something like that up ancient, creaky stairs alone. Just a suggestion.”

  
  


“How constructive,” Sana says, huffing as she zips the suitcase back up once it’s safe. “I’m alone, though. It’s not like I could’ve asked anyone.”

  
  


“Sure you could. Any local around here would be more than willing to help you out. Just gotta ask.”

  
  


“I shouldn’t,” Sana says. “I… I could get into trouble.”

  
  


“You aren’t already?”

  
  


Sana glares at the hand that extends to her. She reluctantly takes it after some deliberation, allowing herself to pull back up. The woman slowly reaches to grab the suitcase, Sana resignedly nodding for the lady to help her escort it up the stairs. It is, admittedly, much less of a struggle with the help of another person, and Sana feels quite ridiculous now.

  
  


“... Thank you.”

  
  


“No worries,” The woman grins. “I'm Jeongyeon. Still lost, I take it?”

Sana rubs her knees together. There’s no use in acting like she can find her way herself when she’ll just end up stranded, stuck with her luggage longer than she wants to be. “There’s supposed to be a guesthouse, up here. I won some sort of package-”

  
  


“Package?” 

  
  


Sana frowns at the odd reaction - had she heard of this place? If so, maybe Sana has a chance of getting there in one piece. This Jeongyeon girl couldn’t be less interested in who she is. She can drop her off at the place, and they can finally bid their goodbyes. 

  
  


Jeongyeon strides off to a nearby building, gesturing for Sana to follow. She hadn’t seen the large sign surrounded by leaves, hanging from a small tree adorning the arch of the front door. It’s beautiful, like a little cottage built upon extensions out the back. It still manages to blend in perfectly among other surroundings with the tiny windows.

  
  


Sana’s confusion intensifies upon entry. Jeongyeon's disappeared, and Sana questions whether she’s being tricked. The motel desk is a dark hardwood, with a little bell to ring once left vacant. Sana curiously taps the top of it, and it chimes out just as Jeongyeon manages to make Sana scream a second time from leaping out behind.

  
  


“Welcome to the Yoo Holiday Guesthouse,” Jeongyeon grins wildly, unphased by the loud shriek. “How may I be of your assistance?”

  
  


“You can assist me by answering one question,” Sana’s still breathing heavily from the fright. “Are you insane?” 

  
  


“Probably.”

  
  


It had given Sana a proper scare this time, _and_ proof Jeongyeon had been teasing her. Sana clears her throat. “Can you please stop messing around? I need to speak to the owner and confirm something. Are they in?”

  
  


“You’re looking at her,” Jeongyeon says. “Well, partly, at least. It’s not _all_ mine. Technically.”

  
  


Sana’s jaw visibly drops. “This is _yours_?”

  
  


“Family-owned,” Jeongyeon adjusts the concierge plaque at the desk, aligning it straight. “Just me for now, though. Seungyeon helps sometimes.”

  
  


Sana looks around, incredulously. She finds it hard to take in that only a twenty-something-year-old runs a place like this, let alone all by herself. “ _This_ is the place I saw on the website?”

  
  


“Definitely,” Jeongyeon confirms. “Most places here are run by older families and don’t tend to do internet advertising. You know, it took a lifetime to convince my Grandma to switch to a computer system.”

  
  


“I see. Is it possible to claim the booking now?” Sana leans into the desk, lowering her voice. “And… can it be discreet as possible?”

  
  


“Discreet?”

  
  


“I’m not trying to be found if you know what I mean.” 

  
  


She needs Jeongyeon to know, at least understand the level of the situation - she’s going to have to if Sana chooses to stay here. She can’t wake up to a photo taken by a creepy guest sneaking into her room in the middle of the night. “I can compensate you in return for your discretion if need be. Can I trust you?”

  
  


“Discretion?” Jeongyeon gives Sana a funny look as if she’d just confessed to being a fugitive. “Should I be calling the police or something?”

  
  


“Is this a joke to you?”

  
  


“Not in the slightest. I’m a decent human being,” Jeongyeon says, serious. “I won’t sell you out to the media. If you have any further problems, it’s probably best to bring them up now.”

  
  


Sana’s mouth opens and closes. “That’s - that’s not what I meant…”

“It’s fine, you’re just trying to be careful,” Jeongyeon continues tapping away at her computer. She doesn’t sound angry at the implication of being a sell-out loser, maybe even a little amused now. “No NDA for me to sign?”

  
  


“ _Really_?”

  
  


“Kidding, kidding. It’s Sana, right?”

  
  


"Aren’t you going to ask why I’m here without security or something?”

  
  


“It’s clear the decision was your own, so I don’t think I need to,” Jeongyeon side-eyes for confirmation. “You just need to respect the Island, and everyone will keep to themselves ... maybe except for the old ladies. They talk a lot.” 

  
  


“I expect to be found eventually, so it’s whatever,” Sana drums her fingers against the wooden top. “I just want to enjoy it for the time being. I really should’ve called in advance. I had the number saved and forgot.”

  
  


“This time of year we don’t get many people in, so it doesn’t matter,” Jeongyeon walks over to shut the door behind them, keeping the wind out. “You lucked out. The Island’s sleepy this time of the year.”

  
  


Sana awkwardly presses her thumb to deflate the handle of the case as Jeongyeon begins to type something into her computer. She reaches for a pair of silver-rimmed wide-lens glasses, slipping them over her nose. “You’d prefer a western bed, correct?”

  
  


Sana blinks. “Um, I don’t mind. Sure.”

  
  


“There’s one in the room you technically won, anyway, but just in case you wanted a choice,” Jeongyeon shrugs, peering further into the screen. Once finished typing enough to equate to an essay format, she lifts herself from the chair. “Can I get you a cup of tea while I sort through the details?”

  
  


“I’d like that,” Sana says, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, then follows Jeongyeon into the welcoming room. 

  
  


-✿-

  
  


Sana is hesitant to unpack. 

  
  


She’s unsure if it’s the reality starting to set in here, or whether it feels a little like she’s moving in permanently to put her clothes into the drawers. There’s a chest of them provided in the room, vintage and handmade. Scented sachets stick to the inside to keep it from smelling aged. It’d be nice to put her clothes in there, instead of cramping up in her suitcase. She’ll have to ask Jeongyeon if there’s a laundromat nearby, or whether she maybe can borrow her washing machine on-site to get some of the dirt off her pants.

  
  


Jeongyeon leads her into the room, humbly, like it was her that designed the layout herself and didn’t want to brag. The bed was large enough to probably fit three people, the room beyond a decent size for the little guesthouse advertised. It’s the most premium bedroom on the lot. Jeongyeon quietly knocks on the door a while after allowing Sana to settle in, placing the hot mug on the table near the door. 

  
  


Jeongyeon also shows Sana where she can set up her computer if she wanted to, passing over a wifi password with a hushed warning that the signal probably wasn’t going to be so stable. 

  
  


“It might be worth checking out the internet cafe in the centre of the village when it drops out. It works well, then it doesn’t,” Jeongyeon says. “I tried my best, but companies never listen, do they?”

  
  


“I’ve had enough of the internet for a while,” Sana mutters, accepting the scribbled note from Jeongyeon’s hands. Her handwriting of the jumbled characters is childish like she’s jumped right from one thought to the next. 

  
  


It’s a funny thought to Sana that a foreigner like herself can write hangul better than a native. Still, she keeps this sentiment to herself and listens to what other information Jeongyeon has to relay. 

  
  


“Oh, right,” Jeongyeon pulls out something from behind her, a set of small-sized towels. “These are yours. Let me know when you need them washed.”

  
  


“Got it.”

  
  


“Also,” Jeongyeon lingers, clasping her hand around the door handle. “You should go for a walk later, before it rains. Ulleungdo is a different kind of pretty at nighttime.” 

  
  


“It’s going to rain?” Sana asks, and Jeongyeon laughs lightly at the disappointment on her face. “Already?”

  
  


“Did you think the sun was going to shine?” Jeongyeon lightly scoffs. There go Sana's plans for sun-kissed skin. “Welcome to the off-season.”

  
  


-✿-

  
  


Sana finds only peace in the nighttime breeze. 

  
  


She slips on something a little warmer to go out, deciding it’s safer this way so she won’t freeze over. Jeongyeon's gone as she moves past the lobby, so she doesn’t make a note of telling her she’ll be back soon. Why bother, anyway? Jeongyeon is just the owner of the guesthouse she’s residing in.

  
  


Ulleungdo has stickers of squids and pumpkins littered along the street poles, Sana touching along them curiously one by one. They seem to be the Island’s mascots, figures scattered around various spots in the town. They’re charming enough that Sana makes a point of taking pictures every time they pass. There are more motels closer to the centre of the village, stacked on top of the various restaurants Sana didn't have the chance to look at just yet. Many, if not most, are marked to specialise in seafood, as expected of the small Island renowned for fishing. Sana’s mouth waters at the prospect of marinated crabs.

  
  


She only explores as much of a thumb’s expanse before she hears the sky crack, hurrying back to the house minutes before the rain begins to settle over the hills. 

  
  


Sana walks back into the smell of onions sizzling on a pan. She curiously toes into the welcoming room to the sight of Jeongyeon’s hair in wet disarray in the kitchen area -- not from the rain, but a warm shower. She’s also dressed in something considerably more comfortable, a sweatshirt and a pair of rubber slides.

  
  


“You’re back,” Jeongyeon says, pleasantly, moving the onions around in the pan. “Did you eat?”

  
  


Sana shivers as she seats herself on the island counter. “No, actually. Do you usually serve dinner in these sorts of things?”

  
  


“I just have the time. It’s not much, anyway,” Jeongyeon pours what looks like a bowl of mixed eggs into the pan. “It’s here if you might want some, unless you have other plans, of course. Don’t feel obliged or anything.”

  
  


Sana hadn’t prepared to dine with anyone this entire trip, but she’s already made enough of an embarrassment this afternoon when she refused Jeongyeon’s assistance. Thinking it over, this was Jeongyeon’s way of displaying her hospitality - it would be rude to refuse a kind gesture as such, especially if it’s what she’s accustomed to. 

  
  


“Smells good,” Sana smiles brightly, pulling her jacket over her stomach to expand the warmth. “Do you like to cook?”

  
  


“When I have to,” Jeongyeon moves the egg in the pan with her chopsticks. "I get that from my Dad. He’s off in Seoul with his restaurants. I just make food for the guests sometimes.”

  
  


“He’s a professional chef?” Sana’s eyes widen. Maybe she’s eaten at the restaurant before with Jihyo. Or, perhaps with Yeeun when she's had a hard week of promotion management and Sana treats her to a meal. Uneasiness rolls in, remembering she has to let Yeeun know she’s going to have to clear any schedules for the next while, probably in the next couple of days.

  
  


“Yeah. I’m nowhere near as good, though,” Jeongyeon chuckles. “I’ve been making food only for myself for the past month so if my estimates aren’t quite right, apologies.”

  
  


Jeongyeon turns a knob on the radio on the counter to entertain the silence, and Sana is grateful for it. It must be digital,chattering of clear and sunny Seoul weather while the obnoxious radio DJ interviews some underrepresented idol group. Sana guesses Jeongyeon put this channel on for her benefit.

  
  


Finally able to delete all sympathy driven texts off her phone in the couple of hours she got to relax, Sana now shoots Jihyo a reply as promised. _sorry for not messaging sooner, i made it in one piece. love u._

  
  


**_( ! ) Message not sent._ **

  
  


“Do you have bad phone reception, too?” Sana asks. “I couldn’t use it coming up here and can’t even use it now.” 

  
  


“Ah,” Jeongyeon sheepishly scratches the back of her neck. “Yeah, it’s another better-in-village sort of deal. I’m sorry, I should’ve clarified. We run by the same telephone companies here so there shouldn’t be a wider problem on that front. Maybe you just have to turn it on and off again.”

  
  


_Another thing to feel stupid over_ , Sana thinks, doing precisely that. “I don’t want to be all that reachable, anyway.”

  
  


“No?” That same clouded look from before is back, and Sana decides she wants to get rid of it immediately. 

  
  


“Just texting a friend that I’m alive,” Sana slides it onto the counter, changing the direction of the conversation. “Any particular spots you’d recommend for a call?”

  
  


“Near the drycleaning service. Has a huge blue shirt on top of it, if you walk straight down long enough and turn to the left. Anywhere around there.”

  
  


“Blue shirt. Understood.”

  
  


“Just be mindful, though,” Jeongyeon pops the lid to the rice-cooker. “The weather here can be pretty unpredictable at times, and the paths get muddy. Don’t wear anything you aren’t willing to get dirty.”

  
  


Sana squints. “Are you, like, a weatherwoman or something?”

  
  


“I just have the app like every other person does. Also, it’s been raining a ridiculous amount lately, so… just a thought.”

  
  


Jeongyeon grabs two bowls, arranging the various vegetables on the bed of rice meticulously. Sana intently watches until she’s finished, pushing it softly in Sana’s direction, then settling down to eat her own.

  
  


“Delicious,” Sana compliments with her mouth full. Whatever Jeongyeon has done to this dish, it tastes far better than what Sana will order in when she can’t muster the energy to go out alone. “What’s in it?”

  
  


“It’s just bibimbap,” Jeongyeon quietly replies, hanging her head a little lower. Is she embarrassed? _That’s kind of -_

  
  


“If I search around in the cupboards, I can probably find some pumpkin rice wine for another time,” Jeongyeon interrupts Sana’s train of thought. “It's good. ”

  
  


“I believe it.”

  
  


-✿-

  
  


Sana wakes to the melodic sound of the rain drumming against her window, for the third day in a row.

  
  


It’s great to be able to slowly get up for a change and not have any work pending for the day. Taking time to put on clothes begins to feel like an unknown source of self-care Sana’s only recently had the chance to dip into. She feels a little more sleep-drunk than usual, too - perhaps yesterday was taxing enough for Sana to have fallen asleep with little to no issue.

  
  


She manages to connect to the internet service just long enough to send Yeeun a small briefing, stating she needs some personal time off instead of business as usual. It’s not too much of a problem along the spectrum of things. Sana only had a magazine reach out for a photoshoot recently, so that’s the only thing that’ll have to cancel.

  
  


Being on a whole other island unannounced might be an issue, however, so she conveniently leaves that out and presses send.

  
  


Jeongyeon’s prepared breakfast downstairs like the saint she is. It’s a seafood dish, something with buckwheat that Sana doesn’t recognise.

  
  


“There you are,” Jeongyeon says, sounding a little more confident in her abilities than last night, slinging a tea-towel over her shoulder. “A traditional, authentic Ulleungdo breakfast. Can’t get that in Seoul, can you?”

  
  


The two of them quickly distinguish they’re the same age, formalities melting away rapidly -- Jeongyeon says there’s not much use for them out here, anyway. Sana agrees. She much prefers quick conversation to slow small talk. 

  
  


“I’m from Japan originally,” Sana flickers eyes to Jeongyeon as if asking for permission to grab the chopsticks resting in the bowl, and she nods. “But I’ve lived in Seoul since I was a teen.”

  
  


“I knew that,” Jeongyeon says like it’s obvious, and Sana flushes. It is. Sana forgot who she was, for a fleeting moment _._ “The climate here is similar.”

  
  


“Osaka native.”

  
  


“Never been. I go to the mainland maybe once a month for supplies, mostly Pohang. I haven’t in a while. Never anywhere except Korea, though.”

  
  


“You must!” Sana adjusts herself in her seat. “It’s amazing once you get yourself out there, exploring the world.” 

  
  


“I’m sure,” Jeongyeon says, tinged with something Sana might interpret as sad. It disappears when she focuses on wiping a mark on the counter. “Where’ve you been?”

  
  


“Oh, just overseas for work, mostly,” Sana airily replies. America, Europe, Australia, the entirety of Asia - her job is a little out of the ordinary compared to most, and that’s only the list of continents she’s visited during a single world tour. 

  
  


“Ulleungdo is the best, though, right?”

  
  


“It’s been a day,” Sana says. “And it’s still a part of Korea, not another country.”

  
  


“It’s still over a _sea_ ,” Jeongyeon points out. 

  
  


“So is mainland Korea.”

  
  


“Yeah, yeah,” Jeongyeon grouches, walking over to the stove to turn the pot off. 

  
  


Sana at least thinks she’s joking, and Jeongyeon turns the radio on again. It’s a relaxed atmosphere in this little guesthouse of only five beds, Jeongyeon cooking for the two of them and the rain pattering on the roof. 

  
  


“Oh,” Jeongyeon appears to have a passing thought. “Just a warning, my sister will float in and around here sometimes. My other friends, too. Can’t control them much.”

  
  


Sana’s silence is telling, so Jeongyeon quickly clarifies. “They won’t snitch on whatever criminal activity you’ve secretly engaged in, don’t worry.”

  
  


“I hope not.”

  
  


“So you admit it?”

  
  


“What?!" Sana exclaims. "I’m not a criminal.”

  
  


“Sounds like something one would say.”

  
  


Sana pouts and chows down on her fish. Jeongyeon slips on something warm she has draped over a chair, fixing her glasses back up her nose. After much deliberation, Sana decides she likes them - they frame her face well. They sit a little wonky because they don’t quite position properly on her small head, but it still manages to look _right_ somehow. 

  
  


Jeongyeon grabs a helmet, too, one Sana didn’t see sitting so visibly on the edge of the counter. “I’ll see you later.”

  
  


“You’re not eating?”

  
  


“It’s 11 am. I reheated it,” Sana’s mouth makes an ‘O’ shape as she slips the hood over her head. “Take a look around, support the local shops when the sky clears. They won’t accept that fancy AMEX card you own, though, so it’s probably best to find an ATM.”

  
  


-✿-

  
  


Jeongyeon still isn’t back by 4 o'clock, and Sana becomes restless as the weather barely improves. 

  
  


After borrowing an umbrella sitting in the stand by the main entrance, Sana wonders if she’s supposed to lock the door behind her. Is this one of those places where everyone trusts one another? Must be nice. She does just in case, figuring it can’t be much longer until Jeongyeon comes home, and it makes her feel better to know she won’t hold the responsibility of a break-in. 

  
  


This time around, Sana spent more time lingering the wet streets of Dodong. Most shops seem to be closed for the day except for the local supermarket, a stark difference to the 10 o'clock cut-off in Seoul’s flagship stores. The closest one by the guest house is small, with limited quantities of foods on the shelves. A family runs the counters, all staff looking strikingly similar to one another. 

  
  


Sana decides it’d be nice to buy Jeongyeon some milk, a few of the necessities if she plans to make her dinner again - it’s not like she’s paying for the experience just yet. Hence, she wants to at least contribute _something_ for Jeongyeon’s troubles. She’ll just feel bad, otherwise. Sana stumbles upon a particular brand of imported hot chocolate mix she likes, too, and adds that to her basket before checking out. 

  
  


Sana enters the garden, waiting patiently under the tree for Jeongyeon to come back. She’d slipped Sana her mobile number on day one, instructing to contact her if she has any troubles or questions when she’s not around. Sana’s tempted but resists in case she’s in the middle of something important. She can wait a while. Sana’s kind of already been a nuisance since the second she arrived, so she’d prefer not to make it habitual. Jeongyeon has highly classified information held over her head, after all.

  
  


Jeongyeon’s entrance is non-threatening this time, opening the creaky gate with her free hand and a tin of paint in the other. The raincoat is the colour of a canary in a coal mine, features enclosed around the hood drawn tightly in. She impractically toddles trying to balance the weight in one hand with nothing to fix down the other. Sana can’t help but pull back a smile, hiding it behind a palm. She looks like a tall, ridiculous rubber duck.

  
  


“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Jeongyeon makes a ‘tch’ noise, at herself most likely. “I got held up… let’s get inside.”

  
  


“What’s the paint for?” Sana can’t help but ask. Jeongyeon fiddles with her keys, buried deep in her back pocket.

  
  


“Renovations,” Jeongyeon says. “Been meaning to get around to it. Something to do while it’s miserable outside.”

  
  


Sana withdraws the umbrella, shaking the droplets onto the surrounding grass. It’s only lightly sprinkling now, so she doesn’t mind some of it getting into her hair. She pushes the door forward as Jeongyeon struggles by herself, and the warm air that seeps out is a much-embraced greeting home. 

  
  


“Wait. Where’s your bike?”

  
  


“Around the corner, in the shed,” Jeongyeon dumps the tin on the floorboards, and it creaks at the action. “It was Dahyun who dumped the helmet in here, not me.”

  
  


“Dahyun’s one of the friends, then?” Sana places the bag on the benchtop. Jeongyeon tilts her head at the sight of food Sana’s bought, but utters nothing, letting her sift it into the designated compartment in the fridge.

  
  


“She was late for work, so she needed it,” Jeongyeon nods, then sighs, meaning this must be a usual occurrence. “There’s a back road further along the street, by the way, to the left. Your taxi driver kind of set you up for failure, making you go up those stairs.”

  
  


“I figured.”

  
  


“It was a _little_ entertaining,” Jeongyeon says, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Please forgive me for saying so.”

  
  


“Which part?” Sana is possessed to properly bite back at the teasing remark, leaning her elbow onto the freezer section and staring into Jeongyeon’s profile as she eagerly drinks. “The suitcase falling, or picking up my bra?”

Jeongyeon splutters, sending the water from her mouth flying into the sink. Sana giggles to herself, shutting the fridge and traipsing her way back to the fruit bowl. She drops a couple of apples and a banana in there from the bag - she was sick of looking at it sit so _empty._

  
  


“I deserved that,” Jeongyeon murmurs, unzipping her raincoat. “You didn’t need to buy milk, by the way.”

  
  


“But I did. Can I ask you another question?”

  
  


“You’ll ask anyway.”

  
  


“How old is this place?”

  
  


“The guesthouse?” Jeongyeon sucks her teeth. “Hmm, I don’t have a date to pin on it, but a long time. It’s passed from my mother’s side of the family for generations.”

  
  


“But you were left with it.”

  
  


“Sure,” Jeongyeon sets her keys down. “When none of my cousins wanted it.”

  
  


“And Seungyeon?” Sana leans into the edge of the counter. “I saw a picture of you with her, out front. The garden’s grown a lot. I didn’t recognise it.”

  
  


“We don’t get enough business to need two people,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Seungyeon is the busier out of the two of us. She just covers me when I have things to do. Or, Mina will sit at the desk in Summer, as a last resort.”

  
  


_Mina_ , Sana thinks. That’s a new name. Sana has a hard time keeping up with all of them. 

  
  


Sana picks at the fluff on her pants. “I didn’t expect it to be so cold here.”

  
  


“It’s significantly more cold than last year,” Jeongyeon speaks of this like it troubles her. “I don’t like it. The wind and rain stop the television from working.”

  
  


“You watch television?”

  
  


“Alright, _now_ I’m offended,” Jeongyeon screws up her face. “Do you think we all cut ourselves off from technology here or something?”

  
  


“You just seem busy. I didn’t mean it like that,” A laugh bubbles in Sana’s chest. “Like you don’t have the time or something.”

  
  


“I watched it last night when you went to bed. I need my psychological dramas,” Jeongyeon licks her lips, contemplative. “I have a lot of DVDs free to use whenever you like.”

  
  


It would’ve been useful today - Sana just sat on her bed and read one of the books seated on the end table until her eyes hurt. It’s hard trying to cut back on her laptop and phone. She wants at least a week without having to respond to emails, just _one_. 

  
  


“I might paint tomorrow,” Jeongyeon ponders aloud. “Along the skirting boards. I wonder if there are rollers in the shed...”

  
  


“I can help?”

  
  


Sana blurts that out, and Jeongyeon’s surprise is evident. Sana hadn’t meant for it to trip out of her mouth so inelegantly, but Jeongyeon takes the claim sincerely and places her palms flat on the counter. “Did I not just offer you my comprehensive DVD collection?”

  
  


“I’ve never painted walls before,” Sana defends. “As you said, the weather won’t clear up for a few days. What else is there to do?”

  
  


“I mean, I’m not saying no by any means,” Jeongyeon’s half-smile is back. “Less work when done together. Do you even have any clothes packed to paint in?”

  
  


This stumps Sana for a moment. “I didn’t anticipate it being on my itinerary.”

  
  


“I have something you can use,” Jeongyeon says. “Should I put the charge on your card now or later?”

  
  


“Hilarious,” Sana lightly nudges at Jeongyeon’s elbow. It earns a slight jolt backwards, barely noticeable It’s the first real casual contact Sana’s initiated with the owner, save for the brushing of fingers when Jeongyeon passes her a steaming bowl of food. 

  
  


Jeongyeon moves to open the fridge, and Sana watches as she touches the lid to the milk, retracting to pick up a packet of meat. “When the weather clears, I’ll take you on the trails, if you like.”

“Trails?”

“I mean, _that_ is a part of your itinerary,” Jeongyeon rips the wrapped plastic open. “The package includes an informal tour. Did you not read the listing? ‘Package’?”

  
  


“Would it,” Sana runs her tongue across her bottom lip. “Take an entire day?”

  
  


“Not one for hikes, I take it?”

  
  


“I could barely climb the stairs...”

“If we go to see the top, we’ll be back after lunch,” Jeongyeon grins, clearly revelling in the way Sana’s face contorts in pain. “Don’t look too excited. It won’t be for days, at this rate.”

  
  


“No… I should,” Sana sits up a little straighter. “I came this far. I should commit.”

  
  


“Exactly,” Jeongyeon says. “There’s a lot to take in. Who knows, you could enjoy it.”

  
  


“Maybe,” Sana says, and she finds herself smiling through the dinner, conversation revolving around a story about Jeongyeon’s friends getting themselves tangled in a mess of English tourists on a summer guide program. 

  
  


Listening into the slight lilt in Jeongyeon’s offshore accent, Sana temporarily forgets about her desperate craving for a vodka martini.

  
  


-✿-

  
  


Jeongyeon’s clothes hang from Sana’s frame awkwardly, Sana trodding down the stairs as quietly as she can. 

  
  


“Jesus,” It doesn’t work. Jeongyeon catches sight immediately, eyebrows raised. “Sorry. You just look a bit like a scarecrow.”

  
  


“Speak for yourself,” Sana huffs, bumbling over to the paint can. She’s not sure how all of this is supposed to work. Jeongyeon said she had an extra paintbrush handy for whenever she was ready, but Jeongyeon already jumped on the stepladder while Sana took her time to wake up late. There’s only one to stand on, so they’ll still have to take turns in sharing anyway. 

  
  


Sana’s arms fold at the prospect of having to be the first to wait. “Missed a spot.”

  
  


“Will you be providing commentary the _entire_ time, by any chance?”

  
  


“Just an observation.”

  
  


Jeongyeon’s strokes of the pigment are consistent, smooth, nothing like the splotches of black and brown and red stained in her pants. The paint very carefully aligns against the masking tape to protect the rest of the wall. Sana’s neck starts to ache from angling up so much, and Jeongyeon turns around just at the right moment. 

  
  


“I can hear you think from here,” Jeongyeon says. 

“I just... I don’t get it,” Sana seats herself on the smaller stool, beside the can. Jeongyeon has to keep stepping down to reach beside it. “Aren’t you curious?”

  
  


Jeongyeon sighs. “This again?” 

  
  


“It’s suspicious!” Sana exclaims. “An idol, hiding out in your tiny guesthouse. How can you not ask about it?!”

  
  


“You really want to know?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“You sure?”

  
  


“Lay it on me.”

  
  


“It’s the current hotword on Naver,” Jeongyeon replies, and that’s like a slap to Sana’s face, said so calmly. “Has been for days.”

  
  


“Oh.”

  
  


“I figured it wasn’t polite conversation material.”

  
  


Sana scuffles her feet on the floorboards, covered by acrylic. “Forgot it’s kind of everywhere now, for a second.”

  
  


Jeongyeon steps down to dip the brush back in, swiping it both sides to get a decent amount on the bristles. She glances up, hesitant to bring the subject up again, but she does it anyway. “I’ll ask, then You know him?”

  
  


_“Of_ him,” Sana corrects, inspecting her nails -- she’s partially impressed. Jeongyeon put two and two together to figure out the whole shebang is fake. “He’s just some boy-group member. Average looks, average talent. She just matched me with him because he’s Japanese. Corny much?”

  
  


“Incredibly,” Jeongyeon somberly agrees, moving back up the stepladder. “Very, _very_ corny.”

  
  


Her shirt lifts a little at the back when she stretches to reach the corner, and Sana can’t help but fixate at the dip in her spine. Mostly covered by bleak jeans that have seen better days, it barely peeks out, but it’s right in front of Sana’s face. Jeongyeon’s head turns past her shoulder, and Sana’s eyes fall to the floor. 

  
  


“Your turn.”

  
  


Sana practically leaps at the opportunity, taking the brush outstretched to her. She dips it inside of the paint, exactly as Jeongyeon does, pushing the ladder to the side to reach a new area of the surface.

  
  


“Side to side, like this,” Jeongyeon motions with her hands, then when she decides it’s not enough because Sana is about to assault the skirting boards, she rushes forward and clasps the side of the top handle. “Don’t force pressure too much, or it pools past the tape.”

  
  


“I’m quite capable,” Sana salutes her obnoxiously. She momentarily forgets what’s in her hand and almost manages to coat her ashy highlights in white, watching Jeongyeon’s wince from below. “Don’t you worry.” 

  
  


Jeongyeon mutters something under her breath, like, ‘ _You_ are _a worry,_ ’ but takes the backseat nonetheless and settles to the side. It reminds Sana of when she came over to Jihyo’s place, once, her then-girlfriend offering to repair the crack in the wall that formed after a small earthquake that erupted in Seoul. Jihyo, full of pride, ended up applying the plaster while the other woman could barely watch without a word of critique. 

  
  


Sana just sat on the couch indifferently, watching America’s Next Top Model reruns while they quarrelled. Jihyo was always going to get her way, no matter what.

  
  


“Not too close,” Jeongyeon warns, and Sana whines, lifting her hand from where the brush had fallen onto the tape.

  
  


“You couldn’t have just applied it twice?”

  
  


“It was the last roll I could find at our incredibly limited supply hardware store,” Jeongyeon says, making an equally puerile face. “Painting within the lines isn’t hard if you try.”

  
  


“Nobody’s perfect, okay?”

  
  


“Wow,” Jeongyeon pretends to marvel, enunciating in English. “Hannah Montana?”

  
  


“Just Sana, when I’m here,” Sana says. “You haven’t met the third identity yet.”

  
  


“Terrifying.”

  
  


Sana scowls slightly up at the wall she’s painting. She’s smaller, so she has to tiptoe to reach the highest point of the board. Jeongyeon becomes nervous at this -- there’s a warm hand resting upon the back of Sana’s calf muscle when she resumes standing regularly. 

  
  


“Steady,” Jeongyeon says. “You’ll fall.”

  
  


“How’d you know I’m clumsy? Did you find out anything else on my Naver page, by any chance?” 

  
  


Jeongyeon clears her throat, taking a couple of steps back away. “Don’t be ridiculous. You can take an educated guess based on how irresponsibly you stand at a measured height.”

  
  


“I do _not_ -”

  
  


The stepladder rocks as Sana falters backwards and concern erupts from Jeongyeon’s throat, using both hands to catch her fall and push her back upwards. Sana should be more freaked out, but she just laughs after the shriek, her heart descending from where it’s risen in her throat. 

  
  


“Okay, no. Get down,” Jeongyeon shakes her head as Sana’s still laughing. “I’m not in any position to get sued for breaking all of Minatozaki Sana’s bones.”

  
  


The way Jeongyeon uses her full name so formally, oddly like a media representative back home makes Sana squirm. Jeongyeon holds her palm out flat for Sana to hand over the brush and Sana complies, dejectedly. In a fleeting moment of what looks to be better judgement, or maybe just internal conflict, Jeongyeon shakes her head and pushes the handle back.

  
  


“You can do sides at the window that you can reach,” Jeongyeon licks her lips. “If you still want to, I mean.”

  
  


Sana hisses a 'Yes!' in her win, snatching it away to rush and complete the masterpiece. No-one tags behind to thoroughly inspect this time, though, and Sana turns to a contemplative Jeongyeon with her eyes cast to the floor. She’s fixated on it. The cracks waxed between the wood can’t possibly be so interesting, considering Jeongyeon has probably seen them enough times to be physically sick of the sight.

  
  


“Jeongyeon?” Sana prompts. “Are you gonna help?”

  
  


“Actually, I think I might take a break,” Jeongyeon wipes nothing onto her shirt, fingers tensing before they relax. “Bring the clothes in, before it all comes down again.”

  
  


Jeongyeon exits the back door in a torrential windstorm, slowly unclipping the pegs off the line in the backyard and Sana ruminates to herself whether a profound sense of emptiness can be contagious.

  
  


-✿-

  
  


**_camelliaf01:_ **How’s paradise? Paradise being anywhere that isn’t at work, I mean. [3:45pm]

**_aquamanluvr96:_ **not spending time off exactly how i expected… but it’s interesting. just glad i don’t have to be home right now. :D [3:46pm]

**_camelliaf01:_ **Amen to that!! Enjoy the time off while it lasts and at least try to relax, if you even know what that word means, you workaholic :P I don’t really get holidays, so I’m kind of jealous. [3:49pm]

**_aquamanluvr96:_ **i know... and you have the audacity to call me a workaholic?!!? [3:50pm]

**_camelliaf01:_ **Yeah, that was a bit hypocritical. Still jealous though. [3:53pm]

**_aquamanluvr96:_ **i’ll whisk you away. wait for me~ [3:53pm]

**_camelliaf01:_ ** … Forever, or? :P [3:56pm]

**_aquamanluvr96_ **: have faith!! [3:57pm]

**_camelliaf01_ **: I’ll wait, then. You’re treating me, though. [3:57pm]

**_aquamanluvr96:_** deal! but hey, where would you wanna go, if you had the chance? [3:59pm]

**_Camelliaf01 is typing…_ **

**_-_ **

**_Camelliaf01 is typing…_ **

**_camelliaf01:_ **Anywhere. [4:23pm]

  
  


-✿-

  
  


“Is she as pretty in real life as she is in the pictures?” Seungyeon says, when Sana walks into the welcome room, just in earshot out of the kitchen. Jeongyeon’s sister. “Oh my God, this is so exciting!”

  
  


“No-one knows she’s here, so you can’t tell anyone, or post anything anywhere,” Jeongyeon sternly replies. “I mean it. Shit could get bad, very quickly.”

  
  


“As if,” Seungyeon flips a strand of hair away from her cheek. “I’ll be cool.”

  
  


“You’re never cool.”

  
  


“Yeah, yeah. Is she a picky eater? I just bought regular take-out…”

  
  


“I’m not,” Sana coolly answers from the doorway, Seungyeon gasping lightly at her appearance. “I’ll eat anything.”

  
  


“My sister’s here,” Jeongyeon says. After finishing up with painting, Sana took it upon herself to bathe then laze around in her room - she hadn’t realised it’d gotten so late, and she’d almost fallen asleep on the bed before coming downstairs for a snack. “She brought food.”

  
  


“I’m Seungyeon,” A covered arm reaches to unclasp a lid from a container of pickles. “I live in the centre of town. I just come here to keep Jeongyeon entertained from her eternal boredom.”

  
  


“I’m not bored,” Jeongyeon wrinkles her nose. “I’m just not a super cool architect, like you. Different responsibilities.” 

  
  


“I design buildings here,” Seungyeon says, to Sana. “The museum is getting extended soon; I’m helping them out down there.”

  
  


“She’s been debriefed," Jeongyeon says, like she’s talking about the weather again.

  
  


“It’s such bullshit!” Seungyeon feathers Sana’s arm in sympathy -- the touch isn’t unwelcome, just surprising. Seungyeon is much less physically hesitant than Jeongyeon, who’s eyes widen at the interaction and her sister’s boldness. “It’s all very behind the times, isn’t it? Anyway, I hope you can enjoy your stay here, while things settle back home. I promise your secret is safe with me.”

  
  


Sana doesn’t know what to say to that, so she just smiles gratefully, taking a seat at the table as Jeongyeon opens the containers and starts distributing the meals. 

  
  


“Did you hear back from Mina?” Seungyeon kicks playfully at Jeongyeon’s leg. “If you haven’t yet, you probably should.”

  
  


“She’s harder to reach, nowadays,” Jeongyeon mumbles. “I’ll have to see her in person.”

  
  


“Sorry that I can’t do it,” Seungyeon sticks her tongue out. “You know how it is, deadlines and all.”

  
  


“Do what?”

  
  


“It’s to take you out,” Jeongyeon adds. “Out on the trails. Someone has to watch the desk while I’m gone.”

  
  


“Oh, right,” Sana says. She feels a little bad about it, but Jeongyeon doesn’t seem bothered at all, casually stealing a pickle too from where Seungyeon has opened it for herself.

  
  


“Jeongyeonie here is an _expert_ at touring the island,” Seungyeon nudges Jeongyeon sharply with an elbow, flashing her eyebrows. “You’re in great hands, Sana. I hope she’s been treating you well. If not, let me know, and we’ll have a chat.”

  
  


“Of course,” Sana smiles, enjoying the sight of an annoyed Jeongyeon rolling her eyes at her sister’s words. The thinly pressed line of her mouth that surfaced this afternoon has disappeared, left without a trace. Sana feels relieved. “By the way... is that Givenchy you’re wearing?”

  
  


“Latest season! Such a good eye, you have,” Seungyeon claps her hands together. “You have to order everything by mail, here, or go to the mainland for nice clothes. Such a bother!”

  
  


“I bet,” Sana says. “I’d love to see your collection if you have more!”

  
  


“I’ll have to come around more often,” Seungyeon winks at Jeongyeon, who sighs, a piece of rice stuck to her lips. Sana wants to wipe it off. “It must’ve been a trip and a half for you to get here, my goodness. How’d you find the boat ride?”

  
  


“I regretted not taking motion sickness tablets… I should’ve bought some before boarding.”

  
  


“They sell it at the ferry terminal,” Jeongyeon says. The grain is gone, with a quick dart of her tongue to the corner of her mouth. “It’s marked up, but still. You should’ve read the sign.”

  
  


“I was in a hurry, I didn’t see,” Sana defends. “Why didn’t you let me know?”

  
  


Jeongyeon shrugs. “I just rip the tickets whenever Tzuyu’s sick.”

  
  


“Don’t mind Jeongyeon. She gets grumpy when she’s hungry,” Seungyeon says, waving her hand. “How long do you think you’ll stay in Ulleungdo, Sana-ssi?” 

  
  


“You can just call me Sana if you like. I get enough of that at work,” Sana kindly smiles at Seungyeon, who she decides she likes, quite a lot. “And I’m not sure. Nothing is set in stone, and there’s not much going on back at home. I have a while to figure it out before things start to speed up again.” Sana looks to Jeongyeon, well engrossed in her food. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

  
  


“I mean, there’s not exactly any shortage of rooms,” Jeongyeon replies. “You can stay however long you need to. Your package runs out in a week, though.”

  
  


“Thanks for the reminder.”

  
  


“When do you think you’ll go exploring? Old man Yang says the weather’s clearing soon, maybe you can go when it’s over. Make sure to show her other things, too. Can’t have Sana here getting lost,” Seungyeon smiles, all teeth. “We’ll keep you away from the gossiping fisherman. They’ll never leave a pretty foreigner like you alone.”

  
  


“She’s right,” Jeongyeon gravely replies. “Nothing wrong with them, they just... come off a little strong. Everyone’s excited to have visitors this time of year.”

  
  


“Shouldn’t be too bad up Seoginbong, for your first sight-seeing activity,” Seungyeon says, a grin surfacing. “Definitely a trek in Hermes flats, though.”

  
  


Sana flushes, and Jeongyeon then allows the conversation to steer away from Sana, for a while. It feels like it’s an act of preservation -- she warned Sana her sister would be rather excitable, so now she’s deflecting the conversation to other matters to make up for it. Sana successfully falls into the background, eating her squid drowned in brown sauce until the container is empty.

  
  


“This was great,” Seungyeon grins, squeezing Sana’s hand in her leave. “I’m coming around again soon! Should I bring soju next time?”

  
  


“No,” Jeongyeon replies, from the sink where she’s beginning to wash the dishes. “You’re annoying enough.”

  
  


“ _I’d_ love that,” Sana ignores Jeongyeon’s protest, smiling with her eyes. “Thank you so much for the food.” 

  
  


Seungyeon leans in close to Sana’s space, lowering her voice so just the two of them can hear. “Jeongyeon needs to loosen up a little, eh?” she pats Sana hard on the back, and it almost winds her. “She’ll warm up quickly.”

  
  


When Seungyeon leaves the guesthouse, her dishes stacked neatly lined against the sink, Jeongyeon sighs, sinking her gloved hands into the scorching water. 

  
  


"Sorry," Jeongyeon apologises. "I should've warned you she was here, but I heard the tap running. I thought-"

  
  


“It's fine. I like her,” Sana says. “Very fashionable. Exactly my taste.”

  
  


“You two, together…” Jeongyeon scrubs at a plate, a ghost of a smile facing the wall. “I knew you’d get along. Scary.”

  
  


“It was nice of her to come around,” Sana feels too hot, too close to the fireplace where her chair is. The back’s heated up considerably, so she scooches closer to the edge. “She cares about you a lot.”

  
  


“She’s a lot, in general,” Jeongyeon says. “She checks in on me because she worries, which is all the time. Worsens in the winter.”

  
  


“Ah… I understand,” Sana thinks of Jihyo, cuddling up to her best friend on the couch, exchanging chips in a bowl, eyes flickering to Sana whenever she thinks she isn’t looking. “Does it ever bother you?”

  
  


“Not really,” Jeongyeon says, more quietly. “It does get lonely. Out here, I mean.”

  
  


As Jeongyeon scrubs at the bowls, across from where Sana’s seated at the table, Sana peeks out into the welcoming room - most of the painting is done now, from when Sana had taken the time to hide out in her room. The stripping chemical smell lingers. Maybe Jeongyeon will ask her to help with another project, soon, if Sana didn’t royally fuck up the last time too much.

  
  


“Are you busy tomorrow?” Sana asks, and Jeongyeon shakes her head. “Maybe we can go on the trails, then, if that’s okay.”

  
  


“We’ll need to leave early,” Jeongyeon sets aside the bowl into the drainer - she arranges them neatly, so each of them can dry adequately and drop the suds. Sana stands, walks to grab a dishcloth and dry them properly. “- to properly enjoy it. I can just lock the door, I guess, it's not like anyone will come along.”

  
  


“I’m so ready,” Sana says, and Jeongyeon gives her an odd look. “No, really!”

  
  


“I’d never guess you’d be interested in this sort of stuff,” Jeongyeon says, and when Sana holds out a hand to pass her the last pair of chopsticks, the wet rubber tickles Sana’s palm. “It’ll be good for you to get out, take your mind off things, anyway.”

  
  


“Probably,” Jihyo hasn’t badgered Sana all that much yet - just sent her texts in passing, reminding her of a new movie out she’d put on her list for Netflix. “We can have fun together.”

  
  


“You’ll need to borrow some shoes,” Jeongyeon nudges towards the entrance. “Seungyeon was right. The flimsy shoes you wear won’t cut it in the mud, I’m afraid. Just borrow mine.”

  
  


“Borrow… again? Will they fit?”

  
  


“I’ll email you the bill,” Jeongyeon jokes. She unsheathes her hands of the gloves, laying them flat against the sill to drip. “We’re the same size, so it’ll work out.”

  
  


Sana is bewildered as Jeongyeon is walking away, likely to the bathroom to brush her teeth. No television tonight - she takes it on a day by day schedule, Sana’s learning. “We are?”

  
  


“Oh, you know,” Jeongyeon airily replies. “‘Been reading up on that Naver page of yours _._ ”

  
  


Not much later, shedding the indoor slippers for bed when the weariness sets into her bones, Sana notices how visible the ‘230’ is on the sole of her shoes at the door.

  
  


-✿-

  
  


Jeongyeon is almost completely ready at 9 o’clock sharp. 

  
  


“I don’t know how you do this,” Sana mumbles, rubbing deep into her eyes. The leftover sleep in the corners attaches to her skin, and she wipes it on her pants, disgusted.

  
  


“Don’t you get up earlier with your job?” Jeongyeon frowns.

  
  


“Not on holidays,” Sana grumbles. “You look like you’re off to the snow.”

  
  


“Might as well be,” Jeongyeon briskly packs the assorted snacks in her cupboard in her backpack, snug and put together in Sherpa lining and a beanie pulled over her hair. She manages to appear both incredibly warm _and_ good, which is almost impossible for anybody in the human race. It’s blearily irritating in comparison to Sana, who just looks like a lost ragdoll. “It gets colder the higher you go up.”

  
  


“Wait,” Sana gawks. “We’re going to the _top_?”

  
  


“The very peak,” Jeongyeon grins. “Shoes are at the door. Unless you’re chickening out, of course.”

  
  


“I’m not,” Sana mumbles, bustling past Jeongyeon to the doormat. “I’m going!”

  
  


“Fantastic. Also, there’s absolutely no way you’re wearing only that. You’ll freeze half to death, especially considering the rain only cleared last night.”

  
  


“Oh,” Sana tugs lightly at the woollen jacket she’d shoved into her case on a whim. “I packed quickly. It’ll be fine.”

  
  


“It won’t,” Jeongyeon says, pulling another coat draped over the top of a chair - one that looks at least a little bit resistant to sudden rainfall. “I’m beginning to think you enjoy my wardrobe more than your own.”

  
  


Slipping into the thick fabric, Jeongyeon assists Sana by buttoning her up down the middle, who fails to realise how close she'd become until she steps away. “Let’s get going.” 

  
  


The coat almost fits perfectly, except for the arms, where Sana’s are considerably shorter. She makes up for that in the scale of hands, however, where Jeongyeon’s are smaller. It’s like the woman gets the sole physical gift of height and God disregarded everything else in considerable proportion. Maybe except for her face. 

  
  


“You’re not taking your phone?” Sana is horrified, Jeongyeon shoving it in the top drawer before striding to the door. 

  
  


“Reception is crap anyway. Don’t you have yours?”

“What if you die?” Sana stumbles trying to slip on her shoes, still partially asleep. “What if _I_ die? Our bodies might not be found for days. What then?”

  
  


“We’ll be found by tourists soon enough. Also, our bodies would be preserved in the cold,” Jeongyeon shoves a golden key into the door, swinging it wide open. She’s already put her shoes on, while Sana struggles to get the Elephant’s ear loop around her cold fingers. “You can have an open-casket funeral and still look mostly like yourself. Isn’t that cool?”

  
  


“You’re crazy,” Sana replies, but she doesn’t run for the hills, just sticks a tongue out at Jeongyeon before delving into the morning fog in the garden once the sneakers fasten to her feet. Jeongyeon passes her a water bottle by shoving it in the side pocket that's deep enough to house a baby kangaroo. 

  
  


They leave the guesthouse, winding around a small road behind the lot. It’s muddy, accurately like Jeongyeon described it, the path leading them both away further from the village.

  
  


“There are a few ways to get to the hike,” Jeongyeon says. “This is just the closest, by the KBS relay station,” She pauses in her speech. “The two others are around the other side. You went to the bathroom, right? There’s no stopping up there.”

  
  


“Yes. I’m ready.”

  
  


“Not too late to turn back…”

  
  


“We’re not!” Sana says, and Jeongyeon tightens the grip of her backpack handle, smiling at the outburst. “I mean… I can do it.”

  
  


“You’ll be sore afterwards,” Jeongyeon says. “I probably should’ve mentioned that.”

  
  


“You can run me a bath when we get back, then.”

  
  


The walk to the start of the mountain is the easy part, even if Sana’s out of breath already. It’s plastered in signs at the entrance, showing various directions to hike up the distance. 

Jeongyeon points to the right, explaining it’s a much more steady climb and less complicated than the others, to be thankful for Dodong’s show of mercy. 

  
  


Sana puffs. They’ve been walking up the trail for probably ten minutes, but it’s felt like an hour. “Do people not use like, cars here or something?”

“Not if it’s a short distance.”

  
  


“ _That_ was a short distance?!” 

  
  


“We could’ve caught a taxi to the starting point, but that’s cheating,” Jeongyeon looks over her shoulder. “Everything is prettier if you walk.”

  
  


Sana tries to hold in her complaints, no matter how much her chest is beginning to burn from the heavy breathing. There’s no way she’s letting Jeongyeon know she’s on the pathway to death from the stitch in her chest. Her fingers nestle in her pants, twigs and branches snapping underneath the hard exterior of her shoes. 

  
  


“This climb is the main highlight of the island,” Jeongyeon says. “The pride and joy, so to speak. You won’t find any snakes, here, just bugs. And birds.”

  
  


“I can hear them,” Sana breathes - the whistling of the air, scattering across the sky and flying to one another. The leaves in the trees are beginning to orange from the green. This forest is possibly one of the prettiest phenomena Sana’s encountered in her twenty-one years on earth. “It’s so…”

  
  


“So what?”

  
  


“Untouched,” Sana struggles to foot her wording. “I don’t know, it’s just… the hikes in Seoul are much more structured. Signs everywhere…” Nostalgia ripples through, turning a particularly sharp corner, remembering how Nayeon had held her hand when she slipped on a rock, and she swallows it down. “The members and I did a smaller hike than this, for a variety show once. Years ago.”

  
  


“It mostly is,” Jeongyeon says. “Untouched, I mean. The people here care for the preservation of every detail. We thrive on tourism, yes, but historically it's never exactly been easy to get here. We have a small population. It kind of wards people off, the intimidation of travelling, even if it’s getting better. Ferries cancel all the time with no warning from rough seas.”

  
  


“Mine didn’t,” Sana says. The weather was forecast to be terrible, thinking back on it now, how carelessly she slipped out without a second thought. How wasn’t it cancelled? She wouldn’t be here right now, climbing a never-ending mountain with the owner of the guesthouse she’s staying with, that’s for sure.

  
  


“Fate, then,” Jeongyeon says. “All ferries after yours cut off for a week, I heard. There was supposed to be another one that afternoon, but I got told to shut the gate. Lucky you didn’t change your mind at the last second, right? People get stuck here for up to a week, sometimes.” 

  
  


“The trees are so high,” The wind rustles through the leaves, and it releases a high pitched noise. “It’s like they’re singing.”

  
  


“That’s one way to put it,” Jeongyeon laughs, reaching out to touch a tree. She’s slowed considerably to let Sana catch up - for every one step she takes, Jeongyeon takes two. “You sound like my Grandma. The old wive’s tale is that it’s the spirits of the Island screaming when the wind is bad at nighttime. It’s milder during the day.”

  
  


“Even the spirits know not to scare off the tourists, then,” Sana shivers, pulling the zipper above her nose to keep out the chill. It smells inherently like Jeongyeon, whatever perfume she uses, her natural scent -- she finds the smell of washing powder grounding, somewhat, at such a high altitude. 

  
  


“You came at kind of the worst time of year,” Jeongyeon snickers. “It might say subtropical climate on the tourism website, but that still means the winters are cool, you know.”

  
  


“It was _your_ advertisement,” Sana said. “You said it was redeemable whenever!”

  
  


“Seungyeon made that listing, actually,” Jeongyeon corrects. “She claimed it would be boosting our visibility, or something, even if no-one applied. I thought it was pointless. Why try saving a dead business, right?”

  
  


“But…” Sana watches her feet, not Jeongyeon, stuttering over her words slightly as the leaves become a bit more slippery going up the slope. “If it’s dead, how do you make your money?”

  
  


“Tour guiding, summer camps,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “I don’t have to pay for the guesthouse -- everything’s long been paid off, locals help me with repairs. It’s just what we do. Everything goes quiet in the winter. Packages are huge with the rich mainlander families. They love that stuff, it’s all about finding spirituality and ‘zen’.”

  
  


“I don’t know if I’m feeling all that ‘zen’ right now,” Sana’s voice wobbles, almost tripping over a series of tree roots forming at the base of a magnificent tree. Jeongyeon grabs her arm just in time, steadying her in her spot, right before Sana would’ve face-planted into an array of fern native to the area.

  
  


“Clumsy,” Jeongyeon murmurs as if confirming after the last fall, absently patting any dirt off her arm she’d brushed against. “Stay close. The ground’s still wet.” 

  
  


“Jeongyeon,” Sana whines, dragging along. “Jeongyeon… My feet hurt...”

  
  


“Seoul’s a city built on an incline, isn’t it? I thought you might be familiar with it.”

  
  


“My little legs aren’t built for this!” Sana groans. “How much longer?”

  
  


“The worst is over,” Jeongyeon says. “We passed a sign a while back indicating the peak’s up ahead.”

  
  


“One of the ones with the cute pumpkin on it?” Sana asks. “I like those.”

  
  


“His name is Haehorang,” Jeongyeon smiles fondly. “You’ll find them and the squid one even at the shrines, we’ll go another day. They sit abandoned in the grass with the flowers.”

  
  


“They grow, even in this weather?”

  
  


“Ulleungdo is a stubborn island, built on volcanic aftermath - you never know. Maybe you’ll find orchids blooming near the top, too.”

  
  


“All for me,” Sana gives into Jeongyeon’s stead, rushing ahead to link their arms together and allow herself to be pulled along. Jeongyeon doesn’t protest -- she’d told Sana to hold on if she was becoming unsteady a while ago. There’s not an excuse now because the high point is mostly flat. “All because I finished the hike.”

  
  


“Save some for the other tourists, too,” Jeongyeon scoffs. “We still have to go back down, yet.”

  
  


“Well,” Sana gestures wildly to everywhere. “Where are they then?!” 

  
  


“Asleep in bed, because they’re all old,” Jeongyeon snickers. “It’s all the older people that come here. Not exactly a hotspot here for the younger generation, is it? No clubs here.”

  
  


“I’ll take you clubbing with me,” Sana coos, pulling Jeongyeon’s arm closer. It almost sends the taller girl keeling over. “You’re pretty. I’ll fix you up an outfit… Itaewon would die for you.” 

  
  


“I wouldn’t die for Itaewon,” Jeongyeon makes it seem painful, wincing. “And friends? That’s what we are now?”

  
  


“Why not?” Sana says. “I helped you paint.”

  
  


“Does that classify as friend behaviour?”

  
  


“Yes! _And_ , we’re wandering together,” Sana says. “Even if this hike is splitting me in half, and I feel like I should be swearing at you -- but I won’t because we’re friends now. I need to make a good impression.”

  
  


“It’s my job to tour,” Jeongyeon says. “I do this for a living.”

  
  


“I’m just like any other tourist, huh?”

  
  


“Worse,” Jeongyeon gravely says. “You steal all of my clothes.”

  
  


“You give them to me voluntarily,” Sana reminds her, and Jeongyeon even sounds a little out of breath herself as she laughs. “You can’t resist.” 

  
  


“If you didn’t pack light for a holiday in Hawaii, it wouldn’t happen.”

  
  


“Oh, thank God,” Sana points forward, breaking from Jeongyeon’s arm at the sight of another sign. “Haehorang says we’re 330 metres away!”

  
  


Fog encapsulates the sky when they reach it, and none of the lower ground is visible. It mists around the plants encompassing the peak of the mountain. It’s a tall rock, sitting on a stack of surrounding stones, reading that it’s the tallest point of the mountain. It’s as leafy and green as the walk up, foliage surrounding the stacked rocks and a path covered in tiny stones. 

  
  


Jeongyeon doles out the snacks she’s packed, passing Sana a packet of dried fruits, with a small thermos and tea inside. She hadn’t noticed how empty her stomach had become on the way up, the light breakfast of bread shared in the first hour providing nothing but a thin lining to the stomach.

  
  


“It feels like we’re not in 2018, up here,” Sana breathes. “It’s so…”

  
  


“That’s what it’s famous for,” Jeongyeon says, patting a rock lightly as she sits on the stack beside the peak. “It’s like taking a step into the past, here, in a way. It’s why Koreans put this place on their bucket list - they want to see what it’s like, connecting with nature of the Island untouched, taking time off from their busy lives back home.”

  
  


“I understand,” Sana spots a Juniper bush, located just behind the main attraction, with a small tree adorned in pink, red and yellow ribbons. “And those?”

  
  


“It’s a nudge towards the Bodhi tree, in Buddhist culture,” Jeongyeon says. “Legend says you hang a ribbon for sudden enlightenment. Families climb to make wishes for their families or help with exams, or the clubs here pin the ribbons for bragging rights. Hiking here is no joke, it’s like a competitive sport,” Jeongyeon takes a sip from her water bottle. “The oldies all get wasted up here in celebration. It's why I wanted to come early, in case. They think they’re subtle.”

  
  


“Sounds like a good time, to me,” Sana smirks, Jeongyeon rolling her eyes in response, pulling her own ribbon out of her pocket. “What’s that for?”

  
  


“I brought you one to hang for yourself,” Jeongyeon says. Unfurling it reads, _‘I did it!’_ in white lettering. “It’s kind of meant for elementary schoolers I take on school camps,” Jeongyeon scratches the back of her neck. “But... yeah. It’s here if you want it.”

  
  


“Are you serious?” Sana says. “I’d love to be enlightened.”

  
  


“Tell that to Bodhi, not me,” Jeongyeon passes it over, her fingers like icicles against Sana's skin. Sana can see her breath in the air, too -- it’s so cold up here compared to the bottom, feeling it in her shivers underneath Jeongyeon’s jacket. “That’s who you need to speak to.” 

  
  


Sana tentatively walks behind the magnificent peak, holding a branch gingerly to attach the string. She sends a cursory glance in Jeongyeon’s direction, who nods. “Go ahead.”

  
  


Sana lightly touches the other ribbons left behind after tying her own. Some are still wet from the downpour, but all are equally beautiful, decorating the tiny little tree tucked away on the side of the seemingly endless mountain. It makes Sana think of baubles, like on a Christmas tree. She closes her eyes in case it assists the process, but she still sees that same table at the company building, the chairman’s solemn expression when he gives Sana a deadline for the next promotional period. She opens.

  
  


“Do you believe in this stuff?” Sana asks. 

  
  


“What? The magical force of enlightenment?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Sana says. “I guess. The superstition behind it all.”

  
  


“Hmm,” Jeongyeon ponders for a moment, slipping a dried fruit into her mouth. “I think it’s nice to believe, or at least go along with it for fun for others. It makes the children happy.”

  
  


“But you,” Sana seats herself at Jeongyeon’s side, legs lightly touching. “Do _you_ feel enlightened, Jeongyeon?”

  
  


“I feel I like I need an actual meal,” Jeongyeon replies, rubbing her hands together while the packet rests between her elbows. “This just isn’t cutting it, I'm afraid.”

  
  


“We’re missing hot chocolate,” Sana’s hands hover over the top of the thermos, enjoying the steam hovering through her fingers. “I love tea, but... today is a day for hot chocolate.” 

  
  


“I don’t drink it often.”

  
  


“Maybe that’ll do it,” Sana grins. “Can I make it later?”

  
  


“I’ll think about it,” Jeongyeon says, but there’s a curl of a lip and she’s not saying no. 

  
  


“There weren’t any flowers,” Sana pouts. “They didn’t want to come out today.”

  
  


"There'll be some out there," Jeongyeon says. “We can keep looking.”

  
  


Sana delicately tugs the side of Jeongyeon’s beanie from where the fabric has slipped, and Jeongyeon’s smile disappears, looking to Sana in surprise. The tip of her ear was bright red, likely numbing by itself from the exposure. 

  
  


“There,” Sana smooths it over one last time, dismissing the odd sensation in the pit of her stomach at Jeongyeon’s expression before she pulls away. “It looked cold.”

  
  


Jeongyeon doesn’t comment, just rolls the remainder of the packet and shoves it in her pocket. She turns entirely away from Sana to face the trails downward. “We should leave before someone else comes along. Good job today.”

  
  


Sana finds it’s much easier to defeat the decline, considering how much her muscles ache from the walk upwards. Jeongyeon wasn’t wrong in the slightest -- she’s going to hurt like hell, later, and she’s thankful they don’t have anything else planned for the afternoon. 

  
  


It’s a quiet walk, proving Sana’s antsiness. There’s never been a point in Sana's life where she’s been able to maintain a silence properly. Jeongyeon seems to be okay with it, though, seemingly thinking nothing of Sana humming an old tune at least half of the way back from behind. 

  
  


With every flash of Jeongyeon’s side profile, Sana sees her cheeks remain as red as her ears were before, and they manage to stay like that the whole way down.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the clouds separated... and then jeongyeon appeared :D 
> 
> if you're here, thank you for still reading! i'd love to hear from you. as always, twitter is @jeonghyonation <3


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